


nobody never got nowhere alone

by sandyk



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M, Racism, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of s5 from Descent. Deeks and Callen go deep undercover to infiltrate a white supremacist cult/terrorist group. (Nell/Callen is in last chapters.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> notes: title from jim white song "the wintered blue sky." no profit garnered, not mine. AU for NCISLA during Descent. AU for NCIS at start of season 11 - Ziva doesn't leave NCIS. In this 'verse, NCIS and NCISLA aren't on the air, instead it's CGIS and CGIS Pacific.  
> warnings: domestic violence, racist slurs, misogynist slurs, rape, rape culture, trauma

Callen leads Janvier to the toilet stall. Janvier closes the door. Callen opens it. "Nope," Callen says. "This really isn't fun for me, but this door will not be closed." 

Callen searches Janvier and finds the pen before the meeting as well. 

xxx

Kensi takes down her ponytail, shakes her hair out. She runs her fingers through her hair, almost pulling it. She puts her hair back in the ponytail. Her day is catching up with her. Her fingers tremble. 

"I vote you let your hair down," Deeks says from behind her.

"Nope," she says. 

"We literally saved the world, Kens. Two nuclear bombs are back in the possession of the US government, Vaziri is dead, Siderov is dead, Janvier is in super max security, Michelle is home with her kids, and you and I are here, and safe." He's stepped closer with every word, now she feels his breath on the back of her head. 

She refuses to turn around. It's the dumbest thing in the world, but she won't. She's standing still, eyes forward. It's a point she's making. She says, "Callen and Granger are in the hospital."

Deeks says, "Both will be out tomorrow. Okay, Callen got shot again, but it's just the shoulder and he's been shot so many times, he'll bounce right back."

Kensi says, "You're in a good mood." She smiles, because he's smiling. She can't see it. She knows it, though. 

He puts his hands on her shoulders. She tenses. He says, "Well."

"I bet you want to talk," she says. Against her will, her shoulders relax down her back. His hands are warm and familiar, even though she doesn't let him touch her. Not often. But it's still a good, welcome feel and smell. She loves his smell. 

"I started the conversation," he says. 

"Yeah," she says. His thumbs press into the base of her neck. She is embarrassed, her feet are stuck to the ground. Her knees are weak, she feels tight and coiled between her legs. He makes her wet. She's 14, she doesn't know anything about boys but she talks with her friends at school and they don't know anything either. He makes her feel that young, that naive. She says, "Good conversation starter."

"Kensi," he says. "I think you're jealous because you are. You're a green eyed monster. If you think I act like a 14 year old, well, it's because of how I feel about you. And you know it. And I know it. No bullshitting. No dancing around it. I want you and I'm pretty sure you want me." 

Want is the wrong word, she thinks. She wants to think that. She definitely imagines him in all those suburban couple owning a SUV ways she has never thought about it except for him. She needs him. She blinks. She closes her eyes. "Maybe," she mumbles. She shrugs him off and turns around. 

She kisses him, mouth open. There is a lot of want in there. A lot of being 14 and nothing to be afraid of and a wave of she is supposed to want. It's okay, it's Deeks. She tugs at his jeans to bring him closer. She thinks he is smirking into the kiss. "I like this," she says.

"Who doesn't like kissing? But Kensi," he says. "This isn't actually talking."

"You think it's communication," she says. He laughs. 

"Fine, you win," he says. 

"I think you win," she says. She is already working at his belt. 

"Oh, god, I really want to do this, like, all of this, but we should probably not here."

She steps back. "Oh my god, you are so right. What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Absolutely nothing," he says, kissing her again. He buckles his belt and says, "Your place or mine?"

"Mine," she says. "In case you don't have any condoms with you, there's that store right there for you."

"We are jumping right into this," he says. He's grabbing her hand and his bag at the same time. He doesn't sound worried about it. His adorable confidence, she thinks. His beautiful hands. She used to try to draw of all things, when she was 14, she tried to draw men's hands. 

"Good," she says. 

Just like that, they're in her car. He grips her thigh and she feels the warmth of his hand from her toes to between her legs. For once, he's not talking and she's not talking. She feels like nothing much needs to be said. She stops outside the store and idles while Deeks runs in. She takes the time to park carefully but they both burst out of the car. One deep breath in and out and they're inside her apartment. Deeks pushes her against the door, pulling her legs up and around his hips. 

He says, "What do you say, let's go for some serious heavy petting out here --"

"You fuck me on the bed, not on the floor," she says, grinding against him. 

He groans a little. She is happy. They kiss and she has her hands in his hair and he is cupping her ass and she is already a little wetter at just the urgency of it. She is so very very warm and the room feels soothing and cool at her back. She is not interested in soothing right now. Then he pulls back a bit and says, "Bed now, okay?"

He carries her into the bedroom and drops her on the bed. He's on top of her a second later. She breathes out. She pushes off his jeans and boxer briefs with one shove. She thinks his belt is somewhere in her living room. He does the same to her and she lifts her hips to make it easier for him. He rolls off her to shuck off his shirt and she takes hers off. So they're naked. She says, "Wow."

"We haven't even done anything yet," he says. He rolls onto his side and she does the same so they're face to face. 

"We made out a lot. We bought condoms," she says. She would giggle or laugh at the absurdity of this right now, his gorgeous body laid out in front of her. If she could do anything.

He runs his thumb along the underside of her breasts. Her breath is ragged. She reaches out and holds his hard dick in her hand. Now their breathing matches. 

He kissed her. She feels like he's a step ahead or something. She says, "I want you to fuck me." So now they're even. 

Things go back to hyperspeed. They're pressed against each other, kissing. They break apart so he can get the condoms. She puts one on him. She pushes him onto his back. He pulls her toward his face. His beard feels good against her thighs and pussy. She pulls back and lowers herself onto him. His hands dig into her hips. She leans forward so his every thrust gets her right where she wants. He comes, she comes. 

"That was," she says, smiling at the ceiling, "that was awesome." 

"Thank you," Deeks says. He comes back from the bathroom and flops on the bed next to her. "You were great, too."

"You know it." She shifts closer to him. "I am kind of exhausted."

"So worn out," he says. "I mean me."

"Talk for real in the morning," she says. 

"Sure," he mumbles. He kisses her hair. 

She sleeps like there is nothing wrong in the world at all. They don't even talk until after she showers and he showers and she starts the coffee. He says, "That is an incredibly cute outfit."

"Ha ha," she says. She's only wearing pink underwear. It was on top of the clean pile and this pair has tiny dots that are really hearts. It is not the underwear she would plan to wear but, if he asks, she is prepared to say they were on top of the pile. It's not a message or something. Even Kensi is allowed to wear cute underwear. She bought them with Nell, at Barney's, it's a good memory. She pours herself a cup of coffee and watches him pour himself one. He's naked. "Are we really at this stage now?"

"Don't actually have clean underwear here. I was gonna throw my pants on, go commando, get my bag out of your car." He smirks. "You don't think I look cute?"

She blushes. "I guess." She looks down at her coffee. "It's a nice view."

"Me, too," he says, staring at her breasts. 

"How many times did you sleep with Monica?" She says it without even thinking about the words pushing out of her mouth. 

He says, "I told you, I didn't." He doesn't look at her. Not even her breasts. 

"Stop lying to me," she says, not even angry. She just had this thought of Monica and now she feels like she just remembered this is very very important to her. 

"Okay," he says. "Okay. A few times. A lot. Whatever." He rubs his chin and then puts down his coffee. "I lied to you because, because you're the one I want."

"We have to do a lot of that stuff for the job," she says. "So, you know. Did you go and sleep with her after we talked, after Snyder died? Did you sleep with her that night?" Did he have that promise on his lips while he fucked her, she thinks but she can't say that without crying. 

"No," he says. He looks her in the eye for a long time. "I didn't. I didn't see her for a few days after all that."

"Okay," she says. She hands him his coffee cup back. "It's okay, I just, I just want to talk about it, like, for real." She sips her own coffee. She's good. 

"Okay," he says. "You're good, I'm good. Speaking of. We had sex last night."

"We had really good sex last night," she says, laughing. He steps closer and kisses her.

They don't manage to talk about anything before they get to work. Somehow by osmosis, they've decided not to hide but not to advertise. 

There's a ton of paperwork from saving the world, Kensi thinks. Janvier shot Renko and he died in front of her. She wishes he was dead like Renko and Hunter. 

There's also follow-up. Closing holes in the investigations. Sam is home with his wife, using his vacation for once. Callen is rehabbing at the hospital and home. It's just the two of them there. They actually get a lot of work done. By five, though, both of them are tired and unfocused. Kensi catches Deeks looking at Sam's seat. She says, "Do you miss Sam?"

Deeks looks down, smiling. "Actually, no. I dunno. We had a not great conversation while monitoring Siderov."

"Not great?" She comes over and sits next to him. 

"Yeah, he hates my hair."

"Your hair?" She almost laughs but stops when she sees his face. Not that he's looking at her. 

"It's reflective of my character which he also doesn't think much of. I guess. It's been years, Kens, exactly what am I supposed to do more than I have for him to not be so … Sam?" Then he sighs and laughs. He looks at the ground and she wonders how often that white teeth on display smile is a little baby lie. "Honestly, whatever. He's an ass, I'm great."

"You should talk to Callen," she says. 

"Right, he's gonna be on Sam's side."

"Whoa, let's not make this even more childish. I think it's clear you have Callen's respect. But mostly, he's in charge. This is his team. And he knows Sam best, so if you two have a problem you can't figure out yourself, he's the one to go to."

Deeks says, "That doesn't sound like high school at all."

"You're not the one judging Sam by his hair," Kensi says. She grins. 

"So you have my side," Deeks says. 

"I do not," she says. "I think you're great. At your job, as a person, and at least very good when it comes to skills. But I like Sam, too. It's not easy being a woman at this job, and Sam's never made it an issue from day one. He treats me, he's been very good to me." She has a tiny catch in her throat, even. 

"He likes your character fine," Deeks says. He looks pouty. He didn't notice her voice or he's focused on his anger more than her. He doesn't do that often. 

"You know, he was really stressed about Michelle," Kensi says. 

"That's not an excuse," Deeks says. 

"No, I know." She pats his hand. He looks fierce but he calms down. "I would say, see what he does when he comes back. Maybe he'll apologize on his own."

"Unlikely," Deeks says. 

"Then talk to Callen," Kensi says. 

"Maybe," he says. "But it's 5 now, so let's go home." 

"You mean, let's get dinner," she says. 

They get burgers and go back to Deeks's place. They eat and watch Law and Order SVU episodes until they're sleepy. Except when they get to the bed, they don't fall asleep. The sex is again completely awesome. It takes longer this time, like they're taking time to savor the meal. She could do this for a long, long time and thinking that doesn't make her the least bit scared. It's Deeks. 

In the morning, as soon as she's awake, Deeks says, "You know, I wondered." He's drawing circles on her stomach and it makes her smile. He says, "Why didn't your mom, I mean after your father died." He starts making the circles in the opposite direction. "Why didn't she get custody? How does that even work? I know you were, you ran --" He stops making circles, presses his lips together.

"How do you even know that?" She sits up. It feels like sludge sitting in her stomach. 

"Hetty," he says. "Sorry, you don't have to answer. It's just the awkward question I wanted to ask."

"I never told Hetty," she says."No, it's okay. It's a stupid story. My grandparents, my dad's parents, they came down as soon as they were notified. They said they had custody of me. When my mom called, they would just tell her that I didn't want to be with her, I wanted to stay with my grandparents. Which was sort of true. But they also told me she didn't ask very hard, you know? They hated her. They moved, I was supposed to move with them, back where they lived. But I ran away. They never reported it. And everyone at school or on the base, they thought I'd moved. When my mom called, they told her I didn't want to talk to her." 

She lays back down and stares at the ceiling. Deeks just rests his hand on her stomach but it's warming. "They hired a private investigator to find me. It only took ten months. I remember, my grandfather said they didn't want people to know because that kind of thing follows you around. It's on your record. And then, you know, they never gave me the letters from my mother, they never let her speak to me. I thought she didn't want me. When my grandparents died, I found all these records. And letters. I knew my mom tried so hard. But I didn't want to think about it. And I didn't, until I saw her in her house. And I felt so ashamed that I hadn't tried, too." She turns to look at him. "And now we're done talking about that."

This is their pattern: sex, random awkward serious conversations in bursts, work, sex, sleep. He has Monty so she's over there every night that week. 

He talks about Monica more though thankfully briefly. He says the only reason he went under as Max was because someone at the club recognized him. "But it was easy to be like that with her," he say, looking at the floor. 

He mentions once how he's wanted her for a long time. "Nearly nothing I said about wanting you was a lie," he says. She makes fun of his sentence construction. 

She tells him about Dom, earlier partners, even a little about Jack. She tells herself he has more secrets than she does. 

The sex is always a little mindblowing. "How does that happen," she says. She mumbles, more like, into his shoulder. Sometimes they are so good, she can barely move or think. She hasn't had it this good since Jack. 

"Maybe we've been waiting so long," he says. 

"Maybe we're both super fit and awesome at this," she says. 

He laughs. 

On Monday, Callen comes back and Sam as well. Sam acts like normal. Kensi feels a stab of guilt that he's so nice to her and he says things like he did to Deeks. She knows it's not her fault, she has nothing to do with it, but she still feels responsible. In typical Deeks fashion, she only knows something's going on because Deeks told her before. This morning he's funny and kind just like always. Sam is polite and even friendly. She feels that guilt in her shoulders, braced against something bad. 

Eric summons them with an actual trumpet. "I think his need for these flourishes is getting out of hand," Deeks says. 

"Gotta agree with you," Sam says, as they go up the stairs. 

Kensi's pretty sure she's the only one who notices the brief clench of Deeks's jaw. 

xx

Marty's focused on the screen and not thinking about Kensi's absolutely perfect tits and ass or Sam being an ass of another sort entirely. Eric is talking about a case they caught at the Navy Yard. "When they got there, Sgt. Gehdirk's wife was waiting at the door. She had shot him, she said, because he was going to kill the whole family, starting with her." 

"Good for her," he says quietly. 

"Again, I agree with Deeks," Sam says. Marty wonders if all this agreeing is an oblique apology. He doubts it. 

"Gibbs agreed with you, too," Eric says. "That would be Special Agent Gibbs --"

"Yes," Marty says. "We all know who he is. The man, the myth, the legend." Marty is not in the mood for the tedious explanation. 

Nell says, "Mrs. Gehdirk had a number of tales to tell about her husband. She says he belonged to an evangelical sect slash support group slash white supremacist terrorist cult. She said there are members throughout the military and the branches of police like NCIS and JAG and various PDs around the country."

"Gibbs consulted with the FBI. They've heard rumors about it, but it's been very hard to pin down. NCIS is a particular target of this group, according to our informant for obvious reasons," Eric says. He puts up a picture of Director Vance in case anyone doesn't get it. 

"So," Nell says, "Director Vance wants us to infiltrate this group. Find a way in, figure out if they're really dangerous."

Callen nods. "Did he have any suggestions for that?"

Nell smiles. More info pops up on the screens. "Here's what we know from the Marine's wife. To me, it suggests a few avenues we could purse."

Callen makes a face of "oh, REALLY?" which he quickly covers. Nell starts suggesting and Callen makes a face of "oh, damn I was about to say that" that he also very quickly covers. Kensi smirks in in what Marty is sassy sisterhood. 

Sam says, "I love these white supremacist investigations. I get to sit back and watch."

"Yeah," Callen says. "Let's start building a legend for me and Deeks. We can be cousins." They collectively work out how to make Callen and Deeks the most attractive for recruiting as good old boys who love Jesus and white men. Callen ends with, "Let's do it quick, the two of us should head to San Diego tonight."

Eric and Nell start laying in the legend they'll need. It has to be extra good since as Kensi says, "There may be people from our own agency looking into this. No one can see the traces, guys." She even sounds worried which warms the cockles of Marty's heart. He turns back to the info in front of him about the two men they need to connect with in San Diego. 

He and Callen drive down in Marty's new undercover car, a shitty old Ford with with a Jesus fish on the back. Callen isn't a vicious killjoy so they actually do practice and rehearse in the car. They're cousins. They're both born again. They're racist and misogynist. They are still a little charming because they need to win over this guy. Luckily, the guy they need to win over is just as unlikable as they are supposed to be so they don't have to be too charming. Just charmingly Aryan. 

Callen says, "If this works tonight, we're in for the long haul, you know."

"Won't be the first time for me or you," Marty says. 

Callen nods. "But we're being unpleasant people. Not in our usual way."

Marty smiles and shrugs. "As crappy as we are about to be, I have to say, I've been worse."

"Same," Callen says. "Doesn't make it fun."

"But it's for a good cause," Marty says. "That makes everything worthwhile, right?"

They go back to drilling down on their legend, getting comfortable with it. Finally they pull in outside the last bar their main target bought beers at. Marty and Callen exchange a look. Their guy is on a stool, chatting quietly with another man next to him. Marty sits down on the empty stool next to their guy, whose name Marty is blanking so it won't sound familiar when he hears it. He and Callen quietly watch the hockey game on ESPN behind the bar, smiling at the deeply shitty racist jokes the two next to him are telling. At a particularly gross one, he laughs out loud. He says, "Sorry, that was funny, man."

"Not everybody thinks so," says Their Guy. 

"Nothing but the truth," Callen says, his eyes on the hockey game. 

Marty holds out his hand, says, "Hey, I'm Jake, this is my cousin Curt. Curt just got discharged so we're --"

"Telling everyone we meet our life story," Callen says, snorting. 

"Hard to meet good people," Marty says.

"Hi, Jake, I'm Bobby," Their Guy says. "Discharged from hospital or military?"

Callen says "Army," and then they get talking in earnest. Marty and Callen blow the right dogwhistles, share the right opinions, make it clear that they hate the same groups of people and smile like they like it the whole time. 

"You're lucky, you got out in time. I got a friend, poor guy, you're in long enough, some woman --" Bobby says.

"Oooh, let me guess, some woman who think she's so equal and liberated sleeps with him, wakes up embarrassed, calls it rape because she's realized she's a slut and voila, he's the one in trouble," Marty says. 

Bobby nods. "Exactly. He didn't get in too much trouble though you know those accusations always follow you around. A woman sees that, she never ever forgives. So when he gets killed in a car accident," he makes air quotes around accident. "The female cop is like oh, it's an accident. She doesn't care."

"That's not the way justice should be done," Callen says.

"Yeah," Bobby says. "But I got a friend in NCIS, he's looking into it."

"Navy cops," Callen says, dismissively. "It's funny how all these kids today want to be in CGIS because of the show. And there's like four of them actually in CGIS."

"I like the original CGIS, but not the Pacific one. They hired that rapper guy, you know?" Bobby's friend contributes that gem of wisdom. 

They talk for a solid two hours of filth and depravity. Neither he nor Callen push very much, it's all hail fellow of bigoted evil, so nice to meet you. Callen mentions they got a place in Carpinteria, and asks Bobby if he knows of a "good" church. Bobby suggests one and they're finally done. 

Outside, walking to the car, Callen takes out of a pack of cigarettes and offers Marty one. "Are we allowed to smoke," Marty says lightly as he takes one. 

"Absolutely," Callen says. "It's a palette cleanser."

Marty nods and thinks of the smoke in his throat as burning away the shit he's just said. 

Callen drives them to Carpinteria. He follows the directions on his new secure secret Curt phone. Marty already has his new Jake phone tucked in his jacket. Their new apartment in Carpinteria is already outfitted, someone did a bang up job while they were in San Diego. Curt and Jake both have jobs they can do from their apartment, some kind of internet customer service thing, so they each have a nice new computer in their separate bedrooms. Marty sits down, turns it on, plays around a little bit. He installs some things, personalizes them for his new alias. Then he kicks off his shoes and flops on the bed. He digs out his own Marty Deeks phone and texts Kensi hello and goodnight. 

He wakes up and she hasn't answered. 

"Breakfast in, breakfast out?" Callen says. 

"Which has the strongest coffee?" Marty says.

Callen looks through the cupboards and says, "We have coffee here but it would take time to make." He pokes the coffee maker on the counter. "One time, I worked at this place where you could push a button and get a cappuccino. Very fancy machine."

"One time I was a barista," Marty says.

"Yeah, same," Callen says. "I like the machine better."

"We're going out," Marty says. They find a diner and hunker down across from each other. 

After they order and get their food and coffee, Callen says, "So far, the info we had is lining up."

"I wonder why one of this group's churchy outposts is here. Kinda small town." 

"You can get to Los Angeles in under two hours, Santa Barbara even closer. Maybe it's easier for people to come here than dodge undesirables in big cities."

Marty nods. A young white couple with three small kids sits down in the next booth so they go back to silence and grunts. 

They both have a cigarette outside their apartment building, in the parking lot, smiling and nodding to their new neighbors. Marty drives their new old car to Santa Barbara where they pull into a safe house and switch back to being Deeks and Callen. 

In the car, Callen says, "So. In case it wasn't clear, you are and have been doing pretty good work for NCIS these last three years."

"Thanks," he mutters. "Are you letting me know you don't agree with your partner?"

"I'm telling you as the team leader. Sam is … Sam."

"So it's all okay when he acts like I can't even do my job even though you and Hetty and Kensi disagree." Marty pushes his hair back from his forehead. "Sorry, that sounded whiny. It's fine."

Callen says, "It's not. Which is why I'm telling you this specifically. But we can be done now."

"Ugh, smoker, you stink," Kensi says with her usual morning eloquence as she sits down next to him. 

"I'll change," he says. "And brush. And floss. But it's part of the cover, you better get used to it."

She grimaces. She looks adorable. She sticks out her tongue. Still adorable. He says, "Or I won't do any of that since you didn't reply to my text."

"You were undercover," Kensi says.

"And since it was my very first time ever undercover, I decided to break my cover and text you. Which is not the case at all so you could have replied, if you wanted to."

"Are we fighting?" She looks at him suspiciously. 

"Spending 12 hours being human scum takes its toll. I just wanted to be reminded of, you know, the world outside, a little light in the darkness." He smiles and she relaxes. 

"Fine," she says. "Point taken." 

He finishes up his report. "Callen," he says. "I'm looking up that case Bobby mentioned, maybe we can get a line on some of his contacts in NCIS."

"Unfortunately," Sam says. "Unfortunately, we can't do anything when we identify him."

"Not yet," Callen says. 

He loves his apartment even more after the dump in Carpinteria. It's not that crappy a place, but it's anonymous and has no Monty and he doesn't even have to share it with Callen. Not that Callen is such a bad roommate, but Marty hasn't lived with someone since law school. 

"I could be naked," he tells Monty. Monty is not enthused. 

Then Kensi unlocks his door and comes right in. "Not even knocking," he says. 

"Nope," she says. 

"Really?"

She sits down on the couch and turns on the tv. She says, "I've had my fingers up your butt, that means no more knocking."

He sits down next to her. "First, thanks for making that sound so sexy. Second, I'm not sure butt stuff is actually some sign of cohabitation or anything --"

She says, "Uh, we're not cohabitating. I'm not moving in here. That would be weird."

"But you coming in without even knocking like you live here because we've done some things sexually is not weird." He laughs.

"It is weird," she says. She's smiling, too. She is basically the most gorgeous woman he's ever known. She says, "But you're weird. So this relationship is weird because of you."

"You're not weird," he says. "I was lying there, by the way."

"Less weird than you," she says. 

"Disagree," he says. 

"I just end up spending a lot of time here because we have to take care of Monty," she says. She springs up off the couch and then comes back with a pint of ice cream. 

"We, you say," he says. 

"Who takes care of Monty when you're not here?"

"My neighbor. She has the keys and everything. She comes over when I'm not home by 8. She had Monty last night, by the way." He takes the spoon from her and has some ice cream himself. She sticks her tongue out at him. "Twice in one day," he says. "You're not just classy, you're original and innovative."

"Whatever," she says. "So how many nights and mornings in Carpinteria?" 

"Looks like four nights, including Saturday," he says. 

"And church on Sunday," she says. 

"Crappy white supremacist church, you wouldn't want to go anyway." He puts his hand on her thigh, feels the warmth of her, the strength of her muscle. 

"Doesn't sound fun," she says. She actually snuggles closer to him. 

"Not like us, we're years of fun. Decades of fun." He waits for her to tense and push away. 

"You're testing me," she says, laughing. "I'm not scared. You're weird, I'm less weird, we're jumping into this, it will be okay."


	2. Chapter 2

Kensi frowns as she types the name of her third grade teacher instead of the name of the mole they found at the defense contractor. "Deeks, I need you to stop talking," she says. 

"Nope, no, nada." He laughs. "You can have your adventures here in Los Angeles with Sam while I'm stuck in Carpinteria at the Church of the First Reich, I will not stop talking. I don't want you to have more fun with him."

She'd already read his and Callen's reports. On Sunday, they'd gone to the church Bobby had recommended. It was a small gathering in a restaurant, less than 50 people. Deeks and Callen hadn't overstayed their welcome though they'd said hello and shared a smoke or two. They had more names to put to the cult. 

She says, "So what was the service like?"

"The church of heil yeah we're white?" He shrugs. "I'm not a big churchgoer so I didn't have much to compare it to. But I assume they're not usually quite so emphatic about the no mixing sword of vengeance stuff. Also, they don't like gay people. I'm not sure why anyone's afraid of Ellen DeGeneres, she seems pretty nice to me." He's quiet for a minute. "Anyway, it sucked."

"You've sat through worse," she says. 

He smiles at his desk. "Yeah."

"You could tell me about it," she says. She keeps looking at him until he looks up and meets her eyes. 

"Not gonna," he says. "But thank you. Right back at you, by the way." 

"Whatever," she says. Callen and Sam are off doing their own form of bonding, staking out someone. She doesn't even remember the case. 

They work in silence for a while and then he starts mumbling. "What are you doing?"

"Practicing my english accent," he says. 

"You're watching that show you like."

"I am," he says. "And Life on Mars is absolutely brilliant, thank you very much. But it's in the corner while I do paperwork and I am trying to improve my accent. It's professional development."

"Oh my God, it so isn't. You know you can't just pick up an accent from TV. It's a complicated thing," she says. She tries to make a circle with her hands. "See, it's class and region and even gender. Watching TV doesn't cut it."

"I get it," he says. "I was kidding."

"I know, sorry." She takes her turn looking at her desk. "It's like my thing."

"Your area of expertise," he says. "I get it. How did you ever get into that?"

She shrugs. "We moved a lot growing up. I really liked learning the language where we were or figuring out how people said things, their accent when we were in different parts of the US. And, of course, actual professional development classes and keeping up with it."

"So do I really have a drawl?" 

"Ha," she says. "Actually, I always thought your accent sounded more midwest, like Iowa."

His smile is smarmy. "I don't know how much Iowan I have in me, but I have been in an Iowan --"

"Please stop. Now that we're sleeping together, I really don't need to hear jokes about other girls you've slept with." She has more of an edge in her voice than she thinks she intended. In some ways, she still feels 14. She has no idea how relationships work. Deeks isn't Jack, and she's not 22. 

"Okay," he says. From his tone, she did have more of an edge. "I was just making a joke."

"So since it wasn't true, I shouldn't be upset that you're joking about people you used to sleep with?" She shakes her shoulders. "Sorry, I sound like an idiot."

"Not like an idiot, per se." He throws a paper airplane at her desk, it hits her laptop. "It's okay, I get it," he says. 

"How long you been making those?" She holds up the plane. 

"Not longer than a minute." 

When the day is finally done and kaput, they walk out together. "How about my place for once," Kensi says, leaning on his car. 

Deeks sort of grunts, and nearly rolls his eyes. He says, "I've got three nights a week to spend with you and Monty."

"You can bring Monty to my place. I like my bed," she says. She feels very insistent.

"I don't actually like your apartment," he says. He grimaces. "Kidding, it's fine."

"Clearly it isn't," she says. "I am not actually a hoarder."

"No, you're not. You're just really lazy. Which is fine. Let's just pick up Monty. I just want to go to sleep with my dog and my girl." He smiles for real and takes her hand. She feels less insistent. 

She melts at his stupid smile. She should stand up herself. She should stop setting a bad precedent. She doesn't think any of those thoughts are actually logical. "Let's go to your place."

They cuddle and make out all night. Monty is even nice and waits until they're both falling asleep to jump up on the bed and burp. "Wow, buddy, what the fuck were you eating?" 

"Do you think he's going to answer, Deeks," she mumbles. 

"Maybe if you didn't put so much pressure on him," he says. 

When she wakes up, she's warm from Deeks on the one side and Monty against her back. She says, "I think Monty likes me more."

"That's one reason to keep you around," Deeks says. 

They work on a frustrating case as a foursome until the end of the day when Deeks and Callen go back to Carpinteria. She and Sam end up doing the stakeout in his car. 

After two hours of relative easygoing silence, Sam says, "You sleeping with Deeks?"

"Yes," she says, instantly defensive. "He's a good person, you know."

"I do know," Sam says. "I know he thinks different and that's my fault."

"Yup," Kensi says. She frowns. "But that's between the two of you. Just, I like him."

"Clearly," Sam says. 

"He makes me a better agent," Kensi says. "Please don't tell him I said that."

"I agree," Sam says. "But you were a pretty good agent to begin with."

"I know," Kensi says. She smirks. "It's not against any rules."

"I know," Sam says. "I know."

Kensi smiles. "So are you about to give me advice?"

"Nope," Sam says. "But I'm glad you're happy. I know Deeks would never intentionally hurt you and he thinks it's cool you can beat up anyone you meet, so that seems like a good basis for a relationship."

"You really think it is, don't you?" She laughs. 

When Deeks texts her around midnight to say hi, she tells him most of what Sam said. He text back "ok." Then he texts "you're my favorite." She does not tell him she's heard him saying that more than once to Monty. 

She gets dressed in the morning with the news playing in the background. She turns around when they start talking about an accident involving a former Navy sailor. The anchor notes he was part of a controversy which is smarmy talk for accused of harassment and rape during basic training. It sounds like the case Deeks and Callen heard about it. 

If someone is murdering men in the military who rape women, well, she takes a few seconds to root for them in her head. She thinks it's a fantastic idea and she wonders if she could pass the killer a few names. She breathes in and breathes out. It's a trigger, she is triggered. She does what the counselors advised and sits down with her legs crossed. She tries to meditate until her heart rate is slow and steady again. She texts Deeks, "Good morning. I could use a little sunlight for me, too." 

She's forced herself to blank everything out by the time she gets to work. She is really good at that, mostly. Callen is already at his desk. "You got here fast," she says, frowning. 

"We left early," he says. "Were you going to do something to my desk? Or Deeks? Did I interrupt a prank war?"

"No," she says. She smiles. "Sorry, I just didn't expect you. I've gotten used to your absence."

"Same," Sam says as he walks in. "Kensi's a much better partner than you."

"I believe that," G says. "But I know you like me best."

"I like Kensi best," Deeks says as he comes in. He puts a pink box on her desk. 

"I think we all like Kensi best," Sam says. 

"You guys are so nice," she says. She opens her pink box. It's a dozen donuts and one eclaire. "Wow," she says. "I think Deeks is officially my favorite, though."

"He is the one you're having sex with," Sam says. Kensi presses her lips together and Deeks makes a surprised sound. "I'm sorry, were we not supposed to be acknowledging that?"

"We were trying to be discreet," Kensi says. 

"But not lying," Deeks says. "Because it's not against any rules of NCIS or LAPD. There's no ground to separate us."

Callen holds his hands up. "I know, I know. But it's nice to be open about it."

Kensi starts with her eclaire. It's so rich and delicious she doesn't have to work to eat it slowly. She makes many many happy noises. Deeks smiles at her and she thinks there is something like gentleness in his eyes. 

This day they discover who Callen's father maybe is. After Deeks hands over the film reel he found, he drives her home. Her tummy is so nicely full from donuts she falls asleep without mentioning what she heard on the news. 

The next night, Deeks doesn't text her from Carpinteria. When she sees him, she says, "Where was my text?"

"Things are probably heating up," he says as he sits down at his desk. He looks resolute. Serious. It makes her nervous. 

"Then it's good you're keeping your cover," she says. 

At lunch, she finds herself saying "Why did you keep the whole Monica thing away from me? Eric and Nell knew. You didn't have to keep it from me."

"Are we still talking about this?" He frowns.

"Did we ever really talk about this? I asked you a question, you answered, I asked you another one, you answered that." She said she was good, she thinks. But it's hard to be good with it. They talked during that time, they talked a lot. They talked about serious things. He hid things from her. She gets why, but he lied. 

"And you still have more," he says. He dunks a fry in ketchup, eats it. 

"Yeah, I really do," she says. "You. You never told me about her, about what you were doing. And it had been six months. Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"I was sleeping with her," he says. "I was having sex with her and I didn't want you to know because I was hoping someday to have sex with you. I was pretty sure you wouldn't be happy knowing I was having sex with her."

"We do that. I mean, I get it. But sleeping with someone when you're undercover, it's not something you would hold against someone. We all do it," she says. 

"I told you why it was different," he says. 

"You were still trying to sleep with me," she says. "You, you flirted with me, we had, we talked all the time." She stuffs two fries in her mouth before her voice shakes. 

"It wasn't the smartest decision, I get it," he says. "What, tell me what you need from me for this to be settled."

"Cause I bother you when I'm like this?" She tries not to snarl. 

"Yeah, it bothers me when you're upset. I like you a lot, remember?" He takes her hand, squeezes it. He loves her, she knows it. 

"I don't know," she says. "You'd tell me if it happened again, right?"

"Absolutely," he says. "Of course I would." 

"Okay," she says. "Sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," he says. She's not sure she believes that. 

When he's in Carpinteria the next night she goes to his apartment and sleeps on his bed. He's right, his apartment is much nicer. She should clean her apartment. She should move. She should not move in with Deeks. But it's stupid to move when probably, eventually, she will move in with Deeks. It's rushing to move in with someone you've been dating for a few weeks. She feels like they don't really conform to expectations like that. She isn't completely sure that's true. She thinks herself in circles until she falls asleep. 

She wakes with a start because Monty is licking her arm. Deeks says, "How adorable to see you here. Did you forget where your apartment is? Did it finally happen, could you not even open the door to your apartment?"

"I am not a hoarder," she mutters. "I missed you, dipshit."

He laughs and sits down next to her. "I'm gonna shower," he says. He moves her hair off her face. "Any minute now."

She rolls over to find her phone. "We've got an hour till we have to be at work."

"So I can spend five minutes lying next to you."

Monty barks. He squeezes himself in between the two of them. "Monty thinks we shouldn't have sex," Deeks says. He's already thrown his leg over her. 

"We don't have to listen to him," she says. "But I am pretty tired."

They shower, get breakfast, get to work. There's a stakeout, Kensi goes in as a confused motorist, shooting starts. She runs and rolls to a wheeled cabinet, shoves it in front of her. She sees Callen, Sam and Deeks enter from the side. She makes brief eye contact with Deeks and he immediately takes out the guy closest to her. "Thanks, partner," she says. 

She crouches and moves quickly to the shot guy, takes his weapon. She touches his neck, the guy's out but still breathing. "Eric," she says, touching her earbud. "We need an ambulance, bad guy, white male, over 30, shot." 

Sam and Callen have moved the other bad guys into the back of the warehouse while Deeks comes over, still watching their angles and approaches. "He's alive," Deeks says. 

"Yup," Kensi says. She switches between watching the exits and watching Callen and Sam. "And he's going to be the only one." The three shooters are all down and Kensi is pretty sure none of them are breathing. She says,"You guys good?"

Everyone reports in with no injuries, their day is mostly over. Except for the reports. So many reports. Deeks sits on her desk, already done with his. He says, "I think we're better partners now."

"You mean since we've done butt stuff?" She says it quietly even though Sam and G are up in Ops reviewing the tapes. 

Deeks laughs. "Well, that definitely deepens the connection. But yeah, sex makes us better. Our communication." 

"Maybe," she says. 

xx

Marty parks his own actual car that doesn't have a single bumper sticker or sign on it and heads upstairs to his apartment. As he expected, Kensi is once again asleep in his bed. He wonders why she even bothers to pay rent anymore on her place but it's probably some twisted thing about her independence and a timeline of relationships they're supposed to conforming to as whatever she's read in all her lady magazines. He shakes his head and sits down on the couch, opening his laptop. He's been typing for ten minutes when Kensi comes out wearing one of his t-shirts which turns out to be more sheer than he realized. She is not wearing any underwear. "That's a look," Marty says. 

She gives him an incredibly sexy smile and says, "I can take off the shirt if you want to come back to bed."

"More tempting than you can possibly imagine, Kensi my dear," Marty says. "But I have to finish this report. It needs to go to DC."

Kensi nods and disappears back to the bedroom. She comes back out again, this time with underwear on. It's only slightly less tempting. She sits on the floor and says, "Why don't you tell me while you type? I know that helps you."

He smiles. "Maybe I was just pretending it helped when I was desperate to get into your pants. Which you have put back on, sadly."

"I don't know, I think you like to talk."

"Okay, you're right." He's finished the first page so he summarizes for Kensi. "So me and Callen head to church, and after, two of the more senior guys come over and say they stopped by our apartment to see us, but we weren't home. I say we were probably in Santa Barbara - this is our prepared story. Half of our customer service job involves going to the boss's house and doing packaging and shipping. And we sometimes spend the night. I remarked that the guy had a pool, and it was great starting the day with a swim."

"You think he bought it?"

Marty nods. "I think so. Callen invited them back to our place to watch a game or two. They nosed around the apartment, I think they were looking to see if it was actually lived in. Since we do live in it, I think it reassured them. They looked like they were both ready to be reassured, not overly suspicious. So we sat around, watched the football. Guy asks me why I'm not married yet."

"Maybe he was interested," she says, smiling.

"Ha. I told him I'd played around before I was born again, now I was waiting for a decent woman. And expressed my regret that there weren't more women attending the church. Callen says he never met anyone when he was in the Army and if there were eligible women at church, they'd like him more than me. We did some cousin banter about who is more charming, again, reassuring." He starts typing again. "As they relaxed with us, they started talking about exciting things coming to pass. Their words. I was mildly curious, expressed despair about the news in general, the president in particular. Then subject Brad said they believed that in the coming week a n-word person, which is a paraphrase of what I am actually writing in the report but I'm not saying that word more than I have to, lower on the totem pole would go boom boom."

"You think they mean Vance?" She gets up and sits next to him. She looks very very concerned. "Why didn't you send this last night?"

"Because they were obviously checking if we were trustworthy. Trust me, after they left, after Callen and I indicated we thought that would be great news and then kept our mouths shut, we proceeded to try to figure out a way to signal anyone. But they have ties in the services. They've looked up our records and checked out our apartment, they can hack our shit phones and our computers. So we're sending it now." He finishes typing the report, does a spellcheck and emails it to Hetty on their secure server. "Hopefully," he says, "it's not planned for this morning."

She hugs him. She says, "Fingers crossed." 

When they get to work, Hetty assures him and Callen that they've communicated the tips to Gibbs so that Vance can have beefed up protection. He's a little less tense. 

Tuesday morning, he, Kensi and Monty all wake up at 4 am when their two phones ring with the urgent omg ringtone. Kensi's is particularly obnoxious. Eric tells Marty to just put him on speaker phone. 

"There was an explosion this morning at the restaurant where the Director was going to be for a breakfast meeting in DC. Five injured from the staff at the restaurant, two dead, one was a Marine who was part of the Director's beefed up detail. Since we had the warning, NCIS had delayed the Director's arrival, but it should look like he was just lucky." 

"Two dead," Marty says. Monty headbutts his stomach since he's a brilliant dog and can tell when Marty is feeling crushed and inadequate. Kensi looks pissed. 

"We need you both in in the next hour," Eric says. 

Marty ends up in Ops with Callen reviewing all the footage and evidence to see if they recognize anyone. They don't. They still look at everything Abby Sciuto sends for hours. 

Late in the afternoon, Hetty tells all four of them to head to the boatshed. "You'll be speaking to an Abigail Borin, from the CGIS. It's about today's bombing incident. Consider her a liaison of sorts."

Borin is no nonsense and hot. Kensi's hotter, but if they weren't dating or partners he would totally be hitting on her. He's pretty sure Callen is thinking something similar, minus being held back by love for Kensi. Sam says, "I hear you're a kind of liaison."

Borin says, "Unlike NCIS, we feel pretty confident no one in CGIS is connected with your terrorist group."

"Cause they're so few of you?" Kensi says.

"Basically," Borin says. "At the very least it's much less suspicious for me to travel here and meet with you than anyone from the Navy Yard. But Director Vance sent his thanks for the intelligence."

Sam frowns. "We didn't save everyone," he says.

Marty agrees but part of him is thinking that Sam had nothing to do with it. Which is not something that is actually true and even if it were, it's hardly something Sam did. Just like Marty can't just blend in with some groups, Sam can't hang with these. He's just feeling pissy and resentful. He is being the kind of person lacking in character that Sam thinks he is.

"We can give you the pictures we have of some of the west coast contingent, but we haven't gotten very far into the group," Kensi says. Callen had laid down the law that neither he or Marty would be indicating they were the ones undercover. It's probably obvious that they're the two who could, but the fewer people who know, the better. 

"I'll take it," Borin says. "Straight to Gibbs. He's trustworthy, right?" She smiles. 

Callen nods. 

Back at the Mission, Deeks turns one of the monitors to Fox News. He watches for a few minutes until the item comes up. "Ah, NCIS," he says to Callen. "Such an arrogant director who is so, what's the word they're not using?"

"Uppity," Sam says, behind them. "He's uppity."

"Also, it's clearly a sign of NCIS incompetence, general incompetence of this administration when it comes to finding terrorist threats," Marty says. "I think I got the spin."

"Good," Callen says. "It's time for us to head back."

"Borin," Marty says, "pretty hot. Think she's dating Gibbs? He seems like the type to like the tough gun wielding agents."

"He likes redheads," Callen says. "I don't know about the gun part."

"Not like you, or do you still have that whole no handcuffs rule? Does that interfere with seeing Paris Summerskill?"

"I bend it sometimes. But only sometimes."

Marty says, "Why would you take the hottest portion of the female population and just say 'nope.' Seriously hot women have handcuffs and not all of them are cops or agents. Was it one of those date one, never again?"

"Actually, yes," Callen says. There's still that undercurrent of laughter in his voice, or something like it.

Marty says, "Did it end badly? Like, the bad agent way?"

"She was a great agent. She died," Callen says. "She was CIA, I met her when I was DEA, then she was killed."

"Please tell me her name was not Michelle," Marty says.

Callen actually laughs. "No, no, I did not ever date Sam's Michelle. I knew her before him, that is true. But not like that."

"So," Marty says, "to be clear, completely clear, you've been FBI, NCIS, CIA, DEA, and what, NSA? PD?"

"No, just the four you mentioned. I joined the CIA after she died," Callen says. 

"To avenge her death?"

Callen laughs again. "To get enough into the CIA's good graces so I could find out that she had faked her death. Which worked, but it turns out she didn't fake her death. She was actually dead."

"Sorry," Marty says. "How'd you get started on the whole agent gig? Career fair at college?"

Callen smirks. "You know I never went to college."

He doesn't say anything more until they get to Carpinteria. Marty stands in the parking lot, smoking silently with Callen and slipping into the correct persona. Breathe in tar, breathe out asshole. 

They've been in the apartment about half an hour when Callen gets a text from James, another of the men at their tiny white as snow church. James is clearly a more important fellow than anyone they've interacted with yet, it's been apparent every time they're there. Callen speculated once James was in charge of everything, Marty doubts it, but he's sure James knows the guy in charge of everything. 

Callen texts back that he should come over, they're ordering pizza. James brings a friend he doesn't introduce. He's an affable guy, charming, charismatic. James is in a great mood. 

Marty brings it up first, asking if they heard the good news. "You know, someone had a great idea in DC for once."

James laughs. "Yeah, they haven't caught anyone even though two people are dead. Clearly the people who had that great idea did a pretty great job. I hear that the only thing that saved that guy was pure luck and maybe someone who had to linger over their cappuccino." James has an evil laugh. Marty and Callen both join in. 

Callen presses a little but not much. Too eager is the kind of the impression bad undercover operators give off. James and his nameless pal leave after half an hour. Callen writes "bug?" on a napkin. Marty nods. If they were close to being invited in to the real inner circle, they'd need to be checked out and monitored. After all, their favorite church group had every reason to be paranoid and enough members in law enforcement and spying to know the right equipment. So they need to act as though they are bugged and stay in character. He's not the least bit excited. 

Callen isn't either, they both go to bed early. In Santa Barbara, at the safe house, the agent they check in with there says he'll arrange a quiet infiltration of the apartment to see if they are being bugged and where it's going. Marty's jealous of how much said agent resembles Taye Diggs (why would the world create two such perfect male specimens? Wasn't it hard enough out there for the above average types like himself?) but the one thing reassuring about targeting white supremacists is that it is relatively easy to spot the agents that wouldn't be allowed in. 

Then, nothing. For the next three weeks they dutifully spend the majority of the week in Carpinteria. Guys from Heil Church come over every other day or so and hang out, watch hockey (hockey is the sport of choice for these guys - the most white guys around), eat pizza, talk filth. It's normal, he knows. This happens in every single deep undercover. Things can't be rushed. It's incredibly dull and he has to be celibate 5 and a half days a week. Oddly, Kensi isn't interested in having sex for 36 hours straight and Marty isn't really either. He wouldn't mind, but there's more to them than that.

Finally, Hetty approves their upping their time out of Carpinteria to 3 days. They can even work cases, a little. 

First thing Marty hears when he walks into the bullpen on Tuesday morning is, "Did you get a haircut?" from Sam. 

He licks his lips and then blows out his cheeks. He had a chiropractor tell him it relieved tension in the jaw. It feels ridiculous but it's better than punching people in the face. By people, he means Sam. "I decline to answer," he says. 

Sam just nods. He almost looks chastened. Like Marty gives a shit. 

Kensi comes in a minute later and says, "I like it." She ruffles his hair. "I'd like a buzz cut better."

"Never happening," Marty says. "It's just my regular trim, you know. Let's not act like it's the second season of Felicity."

"I liked Alias," Sam says. "Felicity I never watched."

Before the conversation turns to more JJ Abrams show they have loved or watched, Eric appears at the top of the stairs, blows a regular whistle and runs back to Ops. 

"Clearly, this is serious," Callen says, as he comes in, walks by them and heads up the stairs. 

"Clearly," Marty says, as they all race up.

It's a hijacking of a ship in Oakland, 20 dead, commercial ship half blown up, and "Hazmat is on the scene because we think there was chemical weapons of some kind being smuggled on the ship," Nell says. 

"Bad guys blowing up bad guys," Marty says. 

"And lots of civilians in danger," Eric says. 

"We don't know who the bad guys are in this scenario, and we didn't hear anything beforehand," Hetty says. She sounds furious. "We don't know anything now either."

Callen, Sam and Kensi have contacts up north, Marty doesn't. He stays home to "coordinate" which is a lot of reading forums and sitting in Ops listening to Eric and Nell do their analyst thing. He has a few things to add and they don't let on he's a total annoyance. 

It's still frustrating, sitting there watching nothing happen as hard as they all type and postulate. 

Finally, the other three land in Oakland and start getting information to them. Mostly, at first, details from the scene, reports from first responders and the very few survivors. Callen disappears into his frightening old contacts from undercover and his stints at nearly every other federal agency ever.

Nell gets a call on her phone, the ringtone is a jaunty polka. In other circumstances where Hetty didn't look so furious and possibly a little frightened, Marty would dance along. He still does a little finger twirl where no one can see. Nell runs out and everyone goes back to work. Ten minutes later Nell is back and she immediately sits down at her computer, looking confused. Five minutes later, she says, "I think we know who was smuggling the weapons out."

Hetty says, "Yes?" It's a frightening syllable. 

Nell says quietly, only slightly cowed, "That was from Nate. He's, well, you know where he is. He got a tip from someone about this. He says it's a network, a group of ex-Stasi? And it checks out."

Hetty swears in German and walks quickly out of the room. Marty says, "Was that a good or a bad leaving the room?"

"I don't know," Nell says. 

"Me neither," Eric says. "But I am not going to ever say what she just said in front of my Grammy ever ever. Or where she might hear it. Which is everywhere because she's in Heaven."

Hetty comes back in, relays a long stream of information for Nell to get to Callen. Two hours and a gunfight Marty has to listen in on while he tries to appear cool and calm (and mostly pulls off, he has no idea how Nell and Eric do this every day but they probably aren't reaching for their own weapon every time they hear the shots), the main part of the ex-Stasi network has been killed or arrested. It's not the guys who came for Kohl back in the day. He has a little love in his heart for those ex-Commies because he fondly remembers Kensi on top of him, laughing, his hands in her hair. 

They have a number of leads on who tried to steal the shipment. Everyone flies home semi-triumphant. Hetty shoos them all home, but Marty sees her calling someone. Probably Nate, he thinks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning rape, particularly for this chapter. If you watch Criminal Minds, you will recognize two of the FBI agents. If you don't watch, you won't miss anything.

Deeks sleeps on his side, always. Kensi tries not to find it adorable. When she gets home from Oakland, she doesn't even pretend to go by her own apartment. All her stuff is here in his place anyway. Monty opens his eyes when she comes in, but he doesn't bark. "Cause I'm your mommy," she says quietly.

"No, you're not," Deeks mutters. 

"Am, too," she says. She goes into the bathroom. "Deeks. Did you buy this stuff?"

"Are you talking about my toner and face wash with all natural ingredients made in America from Vermont new products?" He still sounds half asleep. If he was awake, she's sure she'd get the entire pitch straight from the website.

"Yup," she says. "How much did you spend on these?"

"As much as you spend on that Chanel stuff you wear five times a year." He sounds more awake now.

She brushes her teeth and washes her face. She strips naked and revels in leaving her clothes everywhere. He hates it. She gets in bed next to him, pulling the covers over her. He presses against her, his hand already between her legs. He touches her everywhere, quickly, perfectly, she's wet and panting so fast. She manages to say, "Guess what," between breaths. 

"What," he says, sounding cool. 

"I got an IUD a month ago, we don't need to use condoms," she says. "Assuming you weren't lying about not having any diseases." He kisses her roughly and then soft and tender. He has one hand in her hair, the other driving her crazy. She can feel his dick against her thigh. "If you wanted to."

She kisses him at the same time he pushes her legs open and thrusts inside her. Then she's on her back and he's on top, bringing her to her peak, loudly. They both come but she's first. 

He says, "Except now we make this mess."

"Boo hoo," she says, getting out of the bed and stretching. 

He actually strips and remakes the bed. She gets back in and says, "I'm exhausted."

"Hey," he says, "I'm thinking of getting a new place, we should get one together." He tries to pull her close but she stays on her side. 

"Did you want to hear about what Callen found out this afternoon?" Her voice sounds incredibly weird.

"No, I want to hear what you think."

"I don't want to," she says. "I'm not ready to talk about this, I just don't want to."

"Don't want to talk about moving in together or don't want to do it?"

"Talk, I don't want to talk. God, you can't just spring that on someone," she says. She is angry and irritated and scared a little, she thinks. She's allowed to move at her own pace. 

"When was I supposed to bring it up? You said we were weird, and it was okay because it was us, remember?" He's pressed against her back. He feels relaxed even if his voice is tense. 

"Right, so I'm supposed to just be okay, or being good with some things doesn't mean I'm automatically okay with everything."

"Which is why we talk, hello." He kisses the back of her neck. 

"In the morning, okay?"

"So tell me about Callen."

She forces herself to relax like him. She tells him that after they got the tip, Callen knew exactly where to go. Apparently, back when he was CIA or FBI, one of those, he'd been personally responsible for breaking up the ex-Stasi group. The ones still around had a grudge against him. There had been two survivors, they were both being interrogated by Homeland Security. "I guess," she says, "he was happy to pawn it off. Sam thought it was a bad idea but Callen had that look."

Deeks mumbles. She says, "Are you still awake?"

"Yup," he says. 

"Good," she says. "I called the FBI, they're coming tomorrow." 

"About Callen? That seems extreme," he says. He sounds more alert but he's still all over her like a cuddly tall blanket. 

"No, not Callen. Remember that case, the car accident rapist your new friends told you about?" He nods, she feels it in her hair. Somehow she is so used to sleeping like this, every move he makes she can feel. It's comforting. She waits for it to be cloying or to want to throw him off. That feeling never comes. 

"Anyway, there was a second case of a sailor connected with a rape who was murdered. I did some research and it looks like there are more than two. All in California, from San Diego to Port Hueneme."

"Someone's murdering servicemen accused of rape," he says. He rubs her back in a circle, like she's a little girl who's sick. Neither of her parents ever did that, though they coddled her and cared for her. Some mothers do this, she thinks. 

She breathes in noisily. "Accused of rape, involved in an abuse incident, yeah. It was definitely some kind of pattern. I talked to Hetty and she thought we could call in the FBI without tipping off your guys."

"FBI, profilers?"

"Yeah," she says. She took a lot of classes at Quantico, whatever classes she could get into for forensics and profiling. She hasn't done that in a year. Maybe more. She should sign up for some, not Quantico, but things she can take here. She still cares about her career. She says, "Yeah, they got back to me, they're sure it's a case."

"Good catch," he says. "Good work." He sounds like he's half asleep so she pats his leg and closes her eyes.

The next morning it's her and Deeks and Sam in the boatshed with the two agents. Agents Hotchner and Morgan, who both seem a hundred times more competent than the FBI they usually deal with. 

They get straight to work. Morgan tells them he's found a number of deaths that could be linked to this killer. After their computer person looked at the deaths they'd found, the FBI had an idea of how the killer ("unsub" in their words, Kensi remembers that from the lectures at Quantico) identified his victims. "We're almost certainly looking at a man," Hotchner says. "Likely one in the military or some kind of training who can subdue and overpower these men."

"I could do it," Kensi says. 

"You're not typical," Deeks says. 

"Add in good motivation," Kensi says, warmly. "I could do it. We could be talking about a woman." She flushes. Her voice, her manner, she knows everyone in the room is now thinking 'here is a woman who's been raped, that's why she feels so strongly.' Sam is probably embarrassed for her. 

"Looking at the cases these men have been involved with, I agree it would be good motivation," Agent Morgan says. She looks up and meets his eyes. 

"Maybe a woman would have an advantage with these men, they probably don't have much respect for women in general," Sam says. 

"It's possible," Agent Hotchner says. "But I think this is someone who feels like they've failed as a protector, like an older brother or father." 

Deeks has been looking over the files the FBI brought. He says, "Maybe we should try a plant? Like a decoy."

"Yeah," Sam says. "We make up records for a just discharged serviceman, like a SEAL say, who's been accused but got off. Sounds like just the thing this person would go for."

Morgan frowns. "It's clear the unsub stalks his victims, finding the best time to attack and not get caught. He wants the time to do it right. A decoy would need to basically live and breathe that particular role for an unknown amount of time.

Sam smiles. "Gentlemen, that's something we do well here."

They link up to the BAU's computer expert, bring on Nell from Ops and set up Sam as a very bad man. Sam goes off to set up living quarters in an apartment that's already wired. At the end of the day, Deeks is off to Carpinteria and she's out at a diner with Morgan close to Sam's apartment. 

"It was a good catch," Morgan says. "You ever thought about the FBI?"

She laughs. "Mostly negative thoughts. Besides, my dad was a Marine, NCIS is kinda like the family business." She doesn't like serial killers, she prefers setting up her gun 100 yards away and firing. 

They talk amicably about guns. Another NCIS team is already watching Sam so she goes home to Deeks's place and Monty. Monty licks her face twice for no reason. Deeks is probably right that Monty is a very smart dog who knows when she's upset. She appreciates the gross expression of love. 

Hotchner and Morgan are doing other things in LA, so one of them checks in with Kensi every day. She spends most of her day watching Sam, watching to see if anyone else is watching him. She's almost positive he's being watched by day three, but she can't say exactly who. "But I feel it," she says to Sam, over the phone.

"I do, too," he says. "Of course, our killer might have a couple of perps he's watching."

"We need to catch him," she says.

"Sure," Sam says. "Sometimes, though, I think, can't we let him go a few more weeks?"

She laughs. "I thought that, too. But we're better than that. We are," she says. 

When she gets home to Deeks's apartment, he's already there. He's putting things in boxes. 

"You're moving?" She sounds angry. She is angry. They haven't talked about it all. He never brought it up. 

"Yup," he says. "You don't have to join me, but I'm moving. It's a deal, an amazing place and I can get it super cheap."

"Did you already know about this when you brought up me moving in?" She's definitely fuming. 

"Yes, you've exposed my evil plan," Deeks says. He sounds a little pissed. Like he has the right. "Yes, I knew about this place. Yes, I brought it up to you obliquely because sometimes, a lot of times, we suck at this talking thing and I screwed up. I didn't revisit it because you got so upset when I brought it up. But I'm not turning this down. You can move in with me, you can stay at your apartment, you choose." 

"So you just say 'oops' and apologize and we're supposed to be good?" She's tempted to throw something but she can't. It's wrong, it's no way to act. She says "ugh" as loudly as she can.

"No, we're good when we actually talk about it, not just scream about it," he says. Sometimes she hates his calm unruffled manner. "But at this point, this is a me decision, you make yours whenever you want." 

"I'm not moving," she says. She grabs Monty's leash and takes him out for angry walkies. 

She comes in calmed down, mostly. Deeks made dinner and even put it on plates on the coffee table. "Nice apology plate," she says.

"Sure," he says. "Look, I get it, I'm an ass. There's this guy I know --"

She knows that quirk in his mouth. "You arrested?"

He smiles. "I defended, actually. He had a lot of ecstasy, he was charged with intent to distribute. I argued he was just a big drug user, it wasn't crack, he's white, he went to rehab. We kept in touch. Now he's an architect, he just finished this amazing complex, block. It was a warehouse, a factory, a crappy block of apartments. They gutted it and kept some of the interiors, now it's all apartments and condos and bottom floor is all stores and salons. Seriously, I could never in a million years move into that kind of gentrifying eyesore. Well, it's not an eyesore, but you know what I mean. But they set aside an apartment for Bradley, my party drug friend, but he's decided he wants to live with his boyfriend who has a great place in Montecito. So they're letting Bradley offer it to a friend, which is me and I get the cheaper rent they were going to charge and have Monty and a parking place." 

"Wow," she says. It's such a typical Deeks story. "So you're a wave of gentrification. Where is this place?"

"Westlake," he says. "I will give you keys, of course. You can come look, whenever."

"What about Monty? Did you check with your new neighbors?"

"Nope," he says. "I'll have to learn to pay for doggie day care again."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," she says. "And I promise I won't be mad if we don't talk about it again until tomorrow morning."

"Okay," he says. "Last comment: we can go see it tomorrow on the way to work."

"Got it," she says. 

She walks around the block, the next morning. The new block, she thinks. Deeks is right, it's a pretty sweet set up. The street level is a bakery, a small organic grocery, a Thai restaurant and a fancy salon with individual rooms all visible through the windows. Parts of the facade are still factory, warehouse and old 50s apartments. The apartment Deeks is getting is on the fifth floor, with a view of the garden built on the roof of the old warehouse. He goes on and on about the design elements and the use of light and she remembers his weird love of architecture and design blogs. He has a Pinterest board. She likes it fine, she can't quite see herself living there. But she's an idiot in love, she goes where he goes and where Monty goes. She smiles and nods and take the keys he puts in her hand. 

Sam has shaken any tail and they're all meeting at the Boatshed. Deeks and Callen are working the Stasi thing, reluctantly. 

"Day 4," Sam says. 

"Maybe," Nell says. "Maybe we can make this guy move on you."

"Like, what if he thinks you're a super awful person who's about to attack again?" Kensi nods. "We could set up some kind of street harassment thing."

Morgan says, "Your best bet is Miss Jones here. She's short and looks delicate."

"And we play on the racist stereotype of scary big black man?" Kensi frowns.

Sam shrugs. "In this case, it would probably work."

Nell says, "I'm up for it. I know you're not scary, Sam." She smiles. 

They plan it back at Ops without Morgan. Callen is scary intense about drilling Nell about being safe. Nell glares at him until he stops. "I can do this, guys."

"The things is," Kensi says. "You need to forget Sam is a nice guy you know. You need to forget you know Sam, period. Forget that you're trained to fight. Just be scared."

Nell does great. Sam is appropriately threatening, spewing filth as she walks by his apartment stoop. He even grabs her arm before she bursts into tears and runs away. Morgan sits in the car next to Kensi and says, "See, now I want to kill him."

"Sam was just acting," she says. She knows she doesn't need to, but there are some things she will always always defend Sam about. She says, "He's really good at this job."

Three hours later, as Sam heads out for his nightly walk to buy lottery tickets, a man trips him. It's exactly the spot Kensi would have chosen. Two NCIS agents, Kensi and Morgan descend on the doorway, where Sam is holding his own in the fight, but just barely.

They take the man to the NCIS office that everyone knows about (one Kensi has actually only been to three or four times). He confesses quickly. "It was about his sister at first," Agent Hotchner says. "Then it was about how much he enjoyed killing." 

"A little bit of vengeance," Kensi says. "Do we know, his sister?" She doesn't really want to know. But she has to ask. 

"She killed herself," Morgan says. He looks like he didn't want to know, either. 

xx

Marty takes the day off as soon as he gets back to Los Angeles to move into his new place. He paid for movers, so he doesn't do all the heavy lifting. By the time Kensi gets off work and shows up, he has nearly everything arranged and most things unpacked. He says, "Hey, congrats on yesterday. You apprehended a serial killer."

She shrugs. "It wasn't as exciting as it looks on tv. Also not my first serial killer." She sits down on the couch and takes the beer he offers. Monty stops running around sniffing everything to jump up next to her. 

"Yeah, you're cool, you're so cool," he says. He bends over and kisses her so she doesn't think he means it with anything but admiration. 

He sits down on the floor and starts unpacking his law books. Kensi drinks her beer and pets Monty who laps it up because as dogs go, Monty is an anxious cuddle whore. The silence is starting to feel more oppressive than comfortable so Marty starts to try to think of something, anything funny to say about his old textbooks. 

Kensi says, "I feel like I should explain something."

He knows, he thinks, where this is going. He says, "You don't have to at all. I mean it, Kensi."

"It's okay," she says. "So, I mean, it was only once. It's only happened once. It was my first year out here in LA. There was this, it was a ring of Marines smuggling weapons and drugs. It was run by this, he was a sociopath. And he had sociopaths for partners. They were meeting at a bar, I was the waitress, Sam was the bouncer. We found out later one of the guys, he had this pattern." She says pattern, spitting on the p. He stays seated by his books, with a heavy volume on the Miranda decision in his hand. 

"He didn't know I was NCIS. It was just his thing, his fun. He managed to drug me with a pin prick thing. Then 10 minutes later when I was weak, he pushed me into back room." She pauses. Marty looks up at her but she isn't looking at him, she's staring out the window with a million yard stare. Monty is half in her lap like he's protecting her stomach from the universe. It's his method of comfort. 

Kensi starts again. "Anyway, it wasn't like, I knew it wasn't my fault. I knew I did nothing wrong. I knew no one would judge me or blame me, you know." Of course, Kensi wouldn't be bothered by the regular sorts of trauma. She's Kensi. He wants to tell her it would be okay if she felt any of those things but he knows it's not what she needs to hear. She says, "Not like it wasn't traumatic. I did all the counseling later. Not from the Navy, we never told them. Sam found me, right after it happened. He asked me if I wanted anyone to know. I said no and threw up on his shoes." She smiles.

"Anyway, he walks out. We had set up surveillance in the parking lot, cameras. The leader of the ring, he realized what his pal had done. He got angry because he thought it would screw up their operation so he shot him. In the head, right in the parking lot. Then his friends threw the body in the dumpster. Which we had on tape, so we were able to break the ring and catch all their contacts." 

He says, "Yay?"

She smiles and looks at him. "Yeah, yay. It was fine. We worked it all out. I don't think Hetty or Macy didn't know, but they never had to tell me they knew. So, anyway. That's that. I'm actually fine, you know."

He gets up and sits next to her. She has her hand wound so tight in Monty's back, he's surprised Monty isn't protesting. But he's really not, that's the way Monty rolls. Smartest dog in the world. 

Kensi takes a deep breath and rests her head on his shoulder. She says, "Okay, have you noticed you do not have a bathtub? I need a bathtub. For when I'm staying here."

"I do have a bathtub," he says. "I told you, Bradley designed this place for himself. He prefers to shower, so the shower is in the master bath which I showed you. But his boyfriend loves baths, so there is a very large bathtub in the bathroom at this end of the apartment. Go, look." 

She springs up and goes into the bathroom. "Oh my god," she says. It's a very happy exclamation. "And you already put my tub stuff in here." She steps back into the room. "Wait, is that yours? Your cedarwood aloe bath bomb?"

"I bought it for you," he says. "I don't mind a bath or two, but I prefer it in a spa setting."

She insists on a bath right then. He shelves two boxes of books and then goes into the bathroom. She's adorably sleepy and staring at the skylight. "It's like six little circles," she says. 

"Brad loves that guy," Marty says. 

"Hey," she says, looking at the wall. "Are we weird now? Is it weird?"

"Never ever," he says. "I mean, right? I haven't set you off in the past few years or weeks or months? Have I?"

"No," she says. 

"You'd tell me, right?"

"Promise," she says. "Hey, have I ever set you off? I know you have, like in your past--" 

"Trauma? Abused childhood, 6 months in juvie, that stuff," he says, lightly. She stands up and steps out of the bath. He hands her a towel. He says, "I'm good, too."

"Would you tell me if you weren't?"

He smiles, licks his lips, considers. "No."

"Will you do it now? Like, going forward?"

"Yes," he says. "I promise, too."

Eventually, they have very quiet, gentle sex and fall asleep tangled up together. Perfect way to start his new apartment life. 

The next day he and Callen are once again enjoying the quiet pleasures of Carpinteria when Callen waves their mail at him. "Looks like our sister moved to Des Moines. With her dumb ass husband." 

Marty narrows his eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah, they're going to join us when we go back to the family lodge. In the park?"

"The park," Marty says, nodding his head. "I need a smoke."

Downstairs, outside by the car, Callen explains. "We get a vacation," he says, smiling. "Off camping."

"Which is an actual vacation? Like, for me, for Kensi?"

Callen smiles, which is like a guffaw from normal people. He says, "You can check if she wants to."

"She does, she does." 

"How long are we camping? I think I've got, I dunno, 400 days. At least 10 days."

Callen keeps smiling. "2 weeks."

"Oh, wow, that is fantastic. So fantastic."

He's secretly super excited right up until that night when they get another spontaneous visit. Some of the visits they get are just bro bonding. Curt and Jake have a pretty nice bachelor pad, they've even had a white supremacist or two who slept over on their couch on their way from Hateville to WhiteyForeverTown. 

After mentioning their trip to tonight's Reich hangers-on, one of them says, "I know some people in Des Moines. We should hook you up."

"That'd be great," Callen says, sounding genuinely happy. Marty is just picturing his dwindling vacation. He's already planning going somewhere with Kensi where neither of them will wear much clothing and Kensi will be basically naked and also, surfing. 

"Awesome," he says, once he can sum up the right amount of enthusiasm. "My bro-in-law is the worst."

Over the next two days, everything gets settled at OPS and with the Klan of hate. Curt and Jake will spend a week hiking and camping with Jake's sister and odious, possibly liberal brother-in-law. This time will be Callen and Deeks's actual vacation, a way too short six days. Then down from the forest, Curt and Jake will be hanging in Des Moines, with at least two set up meet and greets with the local scary bigots. 

"So," Kensi says. She is again in the bathtub. He's convinced she loves it more than him. 

"So, what do you think of six days in Hawaii? Surfing, tiny bikinis --"

"You're gonna look so good in a bright pink one," Kensi says, grinning. "You can go topless, if you want." 

"Right back atcha," he says. "In fact, if you want me to wear something tiny and bright pink while you also go topless, I will happily do so."

She laughs. "Hawaii sounds fine. Pack a speedo."

"Okay, as long as you don't pack any bikini tops," he says. 

It's sunshine and chocolate everyday just like the alt rock song, minus the chocolate and with surfing. Kensi sticks to swimming and running and yoga on the beach the two days he's surfing. He also catches her reading some serious chick lit once or twice. Also, she has some dvd attachment to her tablet so she can watch any girlie movies she's missed. She's nice enough to watch those twice with him later.

It's a blink of time and it's their last night. They've had sex and now they're just naked, sprawled on the bed, the only light from the moon and the tv in the other room. They were watching something. Something, he thinks. 

Kensi nudges him with her toe. "How old were you, your first time? Is that a bad question?"

"It's a great question. I was 14, she was 16, we met in the library --"

"You studied?" She rolls closer and strokes his thigh. 

"I made good enough grades to get into UCLA even though I admitted to my juvenile felony, so yes, I studied." He covers her hand because he loves the feel of her skin. "Anyway, yeah, she was older, experienced, she liked me. We dated for a month and then we did it in my bedroom."

"Under the posters from CHiPs?"

"I had taken those down already, thank you. She was, is Filipino. Taught me a little Tagalog."

Of course, this is Kensi so she says something fast in Tagalog. He remembers enough to get that she was saying something about all about the language learning. He says "Yes, I speak a little Tagalog." 

They both breathe quietly. He says, "How about you? First time good question?"

She laughs. "It's just embarrassing. I was not 14, I was, God, I was 19."

"Nothing wrong or embarrassing about that."

She says, "No. It wasn't a thing, I dated, we did things, whatever. But, it was our third date and we were in his bedroom and I said, I haven't done this part before and he said it was fine and it was."

He says, "The embarrassing thing is that that was Jack, right? You got engaged to the first guy you did it with." He tries to say it lightly and she even laughs again.

"Basically," she says. "And he was good, oh, wow, he was good. Good from the very first time."

"I'm very happy for you," he says. 

"And I found that out quick, when I started dating again. Wow. Just, wow. I was so spoiled."

"So when was the last time you had sex before me?"

"Hmm," she says. "I guess about two weeks after Snyder died. I met this guy getting coffee, he just asked me out and I just said yes. I was thinking, you know."

He says, "You were so in love with me but couldn't make a move?"

"Not exactly," she says. "I mean, I guess I was thinking about what Sabatino said. I was thinking, what would I do if you were always so important. Like, how do I survive? Also, the guy was cute. Super cute. But I was thinking about you during dinner."

"Negatively," he says. They muted the tv, he can hear the ocean over their voices. 

"Basically," she says. "The sex was pretty great, though."

"You were thinking about me the whole time for that, I assume."

"Not in the slightest," she says. "He was good. Really good. I was not thinking about anyone else."

"Laying right here," he says. 

"I know," Kensi says. She props herself up on her side and smiles at him. 

"Don't think about him now," he says. He pulls her closer and they go at it one last time. 

She falls asleep. He pulls on his board shorts and walks to the beach. 

Everything he says these days as Jake he learned from his father or Ray or the people his parents knew when he was growing up. Says, thinks, the world view he is using. Marty grew up a little better than working poor, aspiring to lower middle class. It reminds him of all the things he needs to unlearn from his father. He's always preferred blaming his father. 

Marty was a quiet and serious child. He was quiet and serious before he shot his father and quiet and serious in juvie. In foster care, he decided to make people laugh. Making his foster mother smile at the end of a long day meant she would be nice to him. She was always nice to everyone, but there were degrees of nice. If she smiled at him, he was safe. If she laughed with him, he was safer. His first, best cover.

He watched sitcoms like other people studied the Bible. He checked out joke books and anything under humor in the library at his new school. He read Cracked and Mad over and over again. Smile and the world smiles with you, brood and you brood alone. People underestimate you and you can lower yourself to their expectations or surprise them.   
He went home and was the new Marty. He made people laugh, at him or with him, and when it was at him he had instigated it, so it wasn't the bad laughing at. He wasn't much of a threat. 

He studied all the time, though. He went to parties and called out jokes to teachers and did track and field and racked up activities. He gave joke speeches when he ran for office. He was salutatorian in high school and got 1500 on his SATs. He got into UCLA even after telling the truth on his application. In college he went to toga parties and more and graduated in the top 2% of his class with LSATs in the Elle Woods range. He got into UC Berkeley on the back of that for his J.D. He didn't play the party boy as much in law school, it wasn't helpful to what he wanted to achieve. 

It wasn't even a hard cover to maintain. There was just the two years his mother was dying in agony from lung cancer. It was an unspeakably cruel death and he was all she had. He ranks it as the most traumatic thing ever to happen to him or around him. So he never talks about it or her. He told Ray once in a sentence because he asked. He told Jess more because she had just talked about losing her cousin and he felt like he had to reciprocate. Also he was pretty drunk.

Marty knows Kensi thinks, Hetty thinks, lots of people think Max is some aping of his father. Marty’s father was staid, laidback and when he was drunk he was wild and incoherent, flaring. Max was the nickname Marty tried to have when he was eight. He told Ray when they first met his name was Max, and when Ray quickly found out that no one actually called him that, he just laughed. He was all cool hip two years older kindness and said, “Maybe you’ll grow into Max someday.” Max is that quiet, serious kid all grown up, curdled into mean when that cover was peeled away, in Marty’s opinion.

When he brought it out again for Monica, he was a little surprised that Max was less angry, less of a snake. He didn't need to be as mean, and he didn't have to try. The change is Kensi. The change is her, sinking into him that deep.

He would tell her about his mother, if she asked.


	4. Chapter 4

"Here's what we know," Nell says. "At the end of the cold war, a group of about 20 former Stasi officers started selling weapons. No ideology, just after money and power like they used to have. Over the next ten years they built their business to include drugs and human trafficking. The drugs part brought them to the attention of various US agencies which is how Callen got involved. He was undercover for three months and had nearly enough info to bring most of them down when a captured British agent was tortured and then killed, after revealing who Callen was, down to his name and position."

Kensi would take notes but she knows all this. It's their fifth rundown, still trying to piece together information on what happened in Oakland. 

"Callen and the other agents still managed to take down what they thought was most of the organization. But it turns out there were more out there," Eric says. 

"The remaining members spent the next few years rebuilding their organization. Dropped the drugs, upped the weapons and human trafficking." Images of intelligence reports the four of them had tracked down fly by on the screen behind Nell. "They received a lot of help from the Comescus at first, which could or could not mean something since the Comescus helped a lot of bad guys. When the Comescus went down, our pals were doing fine on their own. We believe the organization is now made up of about 23 men, all men, all German, most ex-Stasi but a few younger."

Sam says, "And we know Hunter infiltrated them, on her last mission. That's where Siderov picked her up before he killed her." He frowns. 

"And now we get to Oakland," Kensi says. "A ship carrying chemical weapons, explosives, and at least 112 women and children comes into port. At some point, someone realizes something is wrong and whomever is onboard the ship moves the women and children off the ship quickly. Then the ship blows."

Sam says, "What happened to them?"

"It's not great," Nell says. "Detained by the INS, they were all from the eastern part of South America and the Caribbean. Some are headed home, some are still in detention." Nell frowns, too. Kensi knows most victims of human trafficking don't get happy endings even when they're rescued. 

"We don't know if the ship was a delivery from the organization to the organization or if they were dealing with another group," Kensi says. "We don't know if more people died on the ship."

"We do know that five members of the group were there," Nell says. "Four were killed and one got away. The one that got away was the one who hired the ten guards they had when you guys stormed their spot."

"Because of the call," Sam says. 

"Because of the call," Eric says. "The mysterious call to Nate who was supposed to be undercover about this explosion, giving the name Callen recognized so he knew who to ask for."

"I've listened to it over and over again. They used a cheap voice distortion device and I'm convinced they were on purpose exaggerating a fake accent so I don't even know if they're American, British, anything," Kensi says. 

"We know now by putting together all this information, this group has been operating for all this time, we can find instances of them selling stuff like what happened in Oakland and instances of one part of the group moving stuff to the other part of the group, which could also be what happened in Oakland," Nell says. 

"But we've got new information," Eric says. "Turns out this is not the first time these guys came to North America or the first time they were informed on by an anonymous caller."

"Canada," Nell says, a note of triumph in her voice. "3 years ago, this same group had sent over 5 guys, hired mercenaries --"

"Like they did here," Sam says.

"Exactly - they were meeting with some local terrorists," Nell says.

"If Deeks were here, he'd make a joke about that. Something about Tim Horton's lowering their prices?" Kensi tries to laugh. 

"His joke would be better," Sam says, smirking. 

"Anyway, the mounties got a call, broke up the meeting."

"So someone is monitoring these guys," Kensi says. 

"Someone who only cares enough to intervene when they're in North America," Eric says.

"Maybe," Sam says. "Maybe that's how we found our mystery caller. Someone who knows about international crime syndicates, someone who only cares when they come here, but specifically this group."

"Someone who has ears to the ground about bad guys," Kensi says. 

"I think we know someone who would someone like that, especially bad guys from the bad old days," Sam says. 

"Arkady," Kensi says. "Wait until Callen gets back?"

"No," Sam says. "They're getting deep, we don't know how much time Callen will have away from the cult."

Kensi hates thinking about that, hates it so much. She knows it's true. 

Which is how she ends up having dinner in Montecito in a very dark restaurant with Sam and Arkady. She follows Sam's suggestion and wears something sexy. 

"Please tell me you have not left your partner," Arkady says to Sam. "I would lose all faith in life. In romance and partners."

"He's out of the country. For a few months," Sam says. "Kensi is here temporarily."

"That, I do not mind." Arkady grins at her cleavage. 

"We need your help," she says. 

"I assumed," Arkady says. 

In the end, all he can give them is some vague rumors. Someone who is very interested in these Germans, and hides behind alias after alias. It's not much. 

"But we know we're not wrong," Sam says as he drives them back to Los Angeles. 

Every night she invites Nell over to her apartment. They tackle one part of her apartment for one hour. Everything goes into a box: keep, recycle, trash, donate. She is so not a hoarder because the keep box is always the smallest. When their hour is done, Nell takes the recycling and donation box because she knows all the recycling places and she volunteers for 5 different charities. Kensi then picks up Monty at his daycare and carries her keep box into Deeks's apartment. She files her books with his. She puts her clothes in the bureau and open shelves next to Deeks's books. She hangs the things that mean something to her in the bathtub bathroom. It's basically hers, anyway. 

Saturday they work all morning and they're basically done. "Looks empty," Nell says. "Have you told your landlord you're moving out?"

"Doing it Monday," Kensi says. 

"Which is a little funny, since Deeks hasn't been home since last Sunday. Does he know you're moving in? I mean, I haven't seen his place yet but I assume it's nicer."

"You should totally come over," Kensi says. "Today. And he said, he was moving into this place and I could move or wait, so I think that's an invitation. If he wants to object, he can do it when he comes home."

When she picked up her mail for one of her aliases on Friday, one that isn't registered officially with NCIS, she had a postcard from Iowa. On the back someone had drawn a heart. Deeks had sent it, she knew. She knows. It's hanging from a string in her bathroom. 

When the only thing left in Kensi's apartment is furniture too big to move or that she doesn't care about, she and Nell drive over to Deeks's apartment. "And, here's the bathtub," Kensi says, waving her hand. 

"Oh my god," Nell says. "Okay, this might be inappropriate but can I take a bath? Please?"

Kensi laughs. "Absolutely. I'll go walk Monty and see if you're ready to get out when I get back."

Nell takes an hour in the world's greatest bath and then heads home looking totally blissed out. It really is that great. 

Kensi crawls into the big bed at 3 pm and closes her eyes. She wants him home. She wants him in their bed, pushing off Monty. She wants a lot. She tells herself she is done with all the things she thinks she needs to protect, she would tell him anything. She just needs to know he will be home. 

When she wakes up, it's dark. Monty is barking his head off, happy, joyous barking. She sits up and says, "Hello?" It comes out more like a whisper. 

Then she hears him and he comes straight into the bedroom with Monty trailing behind him, still barking. "The neighbors are gonna kill you," she says. 

He hugs her so close she can barely inhale. She doesn't care. He says, "It's only 9:30."

She wiggles closer somehow to him and puts her hand on his face. "Oh my god, did you shave?"

"Yes," he says. "This damn case. Clean shaven, new hair cut. Well, mostly clean shaven. No one was doing a full body inspection."

That sounds like he won't be here long and she won't see him for a while. She says, "How long are you here?"

"Here in this bed? Long enough to notice you seem to have moved in." She means to answer but he kisses her and she kisses back. She misses the mustache. She feels his short hair under her fingers.   
She says, "You said I could. So I did. I only have two pieces of furniture to move in, I thought I'd take the half bedroom as a kind of office for me and we can put my bed in the guest room. And I need to get on the lease."

"You think I'm gonna die," he says lightly.   
"Never ever," she says. "But a girl likes things to be legal." She manages a smile.

"I would like right now," he says and his hands are tugging at her shirt. 

"Okay," she says. She pulls off her shirt and pushes down the blanket. 

He turns on the light. "I like to see you."

He looks skinnier and leaner. He takes his time, they kiss forever. He goes down on her long enough she ends up incoherently begging him just to fuck her. She'd be pissed at the loss of dignity but he will probably need a few good memories to last him a long time. 

The best part is falling asleep together. The other best part is waking up and watching him sleep. She doesn't mind the short hair but seeing his whole face is weird. Maybe she likes it. Maybe his lips are too big for his face. 

She wakes up again and he's already dressed. He's having a deep talk with Monty explaining he needs to be away. She sits up but doesn't make a move to get out of bed. Maybe that will work.

Deeks stands at the edge of the bed. He says, "Could I get maybe a flash of boob, maybe spread your legs?"

"You want to remember me as a beaver shot on girls gone wild?" She does it anyway. 

"I'll make sure you get on the lease and all that stuff. Don't decorate too much, I've got a ton of ideas for the living room and the kitchen. I'll make sure you have some access to my paycheck for rent and Monty's bills, but again, not all of it."

"You ain't saying I'm a gold digger," she says, almost laughing. 

He laughs. Then he says, "I'll be okay." 

"I know," she says. 

She hears the door close and Monty whimpering and lets herself cry. This is the job. She can do it. She sniffles and she is sure her face is ugly and puffy. But but but, she thinks. Deeks is good at his job and she is not some weeping weepy person. She gets up and dresses for a run. She does two miles. 

xx

Marty tightens his grip on the gun and swallows and sweats. 

Jimmy says, "Kill him, Jake. Then we know you're not another faker."

Callen struggles against the two men holding him. "I'm not, I believe."

Jimmy slugs Callen again. Again. He holds up the pictures again. Callen laughing with their Santa Barbara contact. "We know you met with him. We know he's a fed. We know you are about to die. Right, Jake?"

"I can't believe you could do this," Marty says, not faking the desperation in his voice. "Why would you?"

Callen keeps his head down. He says, "Money. It was the fucking money. We were never anything, we grew up with nothing. We never have shit. Why not take some money and get something for us?" He spits up blood at the ground. 

"You betrayed us," Marty says. 

"And to whom exactly," Jimmy says. 

He has to hit Callen a few more times to get an answer but Callen mumbles, "Homeland Security." 

Jimmy and Bob and Mark all look at Marty. Bob is the one to say it. "If you don't shoot him right now, we'll know you were in on it, too."

Jake steadies his hand. Marty aims the gun. He pulls the trigger. Blood blooms up on Callen's upper chest and he falls over. 

Marty is looking at Callen face down in mud, blood pouring out of him. This is the moment he needs to bury himself. He shudders. 

Bob takes the gun from Jake's shivering hand and starts cleaning it off. Mark pulls Jake by the arm back and away. The shot was loud, they need to get out of here. 

They shuffle Jake into the back of a blue van. Marty knows they are still suspicious of Jake, Jake is more numb. Bob has Jake strip down. "We don't know what kind of bugs or trackers Curt might have planted." Marty knows both he and Callen have overwatch spray on their ribs. Marty has the refresher in a generic wipe in his wallet. 

Jake stares in shock and puts on the new boxers and cheap jeans and button down. 

The van drives overnight. In the morning they're somewhere outside Las Vegas. The four of them get out of the van for a smoke and then go into a McDonalds. As they chow down on their Egg McMuffins and black coffee, Jimmy says, "You've proved yourself, Jake. Unfortunately we're going to need to make you a new identity and make sure Curt didn't leave behind anything in your apartment or on you. So after this, we're going to go to Walmart and get you some clothes and a new lighter and a new wallet. It's a tragedy, but thanks to the shithead running the country, good men are being stalked and targeted. All we do is defend the rights of Christian white men, but they try to get us on trumped up charges. They know we're a threat. So we've had to hide some of our good men before and now you."

Jake nods. "I just can't believe Curt. I know it's true, I do, but part of me just wonders, like, where did he go wrong?"

"Money is the root of all evil," Bob says, like the arrogant prick he is. 

It's pretty far from a snazzy wardrobe, but Marty's not paying so he keeps his complaints in his head. He gets a new wallet and hands over all his credit cards and id, palming the wet wipe with a picture of Jake's mother. He puts those two things in the new wallet. 

They get back in the van and drive all day again. The scenic tour through Utah inspires a lot of Mormon jokes. Cause those people are crazy. Marty internally rolls his eyes. Finally they land in some tiny town in southeast Idaho. They drive through it to what he can only call a compound. 

Bob, Jimmy and Mark get warm welcomes. Two guys take Marty to another room. He gets the full body cavity search. They note his scars and his tattoos. Jake mumbles bad jokes, embarrassed. Marty notes the excellent professional technique. 

When he gets a second in the bathroom, he pulls out his overwatch wet wipe and uses it to clean his neck. 

He and Callen knew back in Iowa things were getting serious. They had a fun trip, getting haircuts so Jake was finally cleaned up. Now he's here in Idaho in the compound Jimmy told them about when they met in Iowa. It's a self-sustaining farm, with generators and solar panels to run by itself, an obstacle course Marty can see past the biggest building. Probably a shooting range. Jake is scared and excited, Marty is mostly worried. 

Jake is ushered into his new home. It's the bottom level of the compound, a military like dorm with no privacy, just 20 simple beds with drawers under them. He's pretty sure everything will be searched at least once or twice. His new job is gardening. "Idaho a row," he says, laughing.Three of the guys on the bottom like him laugh, two stare at him. 

Jake is the kind of guy who gets along with people. He keeps people entertained making racist jokes and racist imitations. His FLOTUS is a work of gross racism. People laugh while they weed and do the other shit needed to keep their brave white compound self-sustaining. 

Of the twenty of them in the dorm, most are just cannon fodder. They won't get further than working here and maybe wearing a suicide bomb or some drive by beating. Three of the guys, though, they are on their way up. Two of them are in between leaving the military and already applied to the FBI or Homeland Security.

After two weeks, FBI and Homeland Security leave to go off to their new jobs and training. The next morning the Big Guy is there. Jake doesn't remember the name, but he knows, this is the guy. He's retired Pentagon brass, Marty knows that. The Big Guy calls Jake into his meeting room. Marty recognizes a set up nearly as good as the boatshed. 

They talk for hours. Jake takes his time realizing he's being interrogated. Then he gets scared because it is the nature of all people to be scared even if they aren't actually LAPD undercover. The Big Guy is not just well trained, he's fantastically well trained and a natural. Callen and Hetty are probably a smidge better but this guy is really good. Three times Jake is convinced he's okay, and the Big Guy knows he's all right. Marty knows very well that all three times Jake is wrong. 

Marty does notice when the Big Guy stops probing for guilt and starts determining if Jake is cannon fodder or a front line soldier. Or something better. Marty's been playing Jake as smart; not as trained to be smart as Marty, but smart. He needs to bring that out now. 

The next morning, Bob is back and the Big Guy is gone and Marty gets to move upstairs. He has a cubicle sized private room and only shares his bathroom with four other men. Now he doesn't garden, he runs the obstacle course and learns to be a sniper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there were major character death in this story, I would warn for major character death. I did not, so don't worry.


	5. Chapter 5

"Deeks shot you," Sam says. 

"In just the right place," Callen says. He looks like shit, bruises on 2/3rds of his face, bandaged chest. "It's what you would have done. Except maybe you miss."

"I would have not missed," Sam says. "He still shot you."

"He shot me in the chest in the right place to make it look like I'd died but I didn't actually die." Callen frowns. "Sam, stop."

"Stop worrying about my partner?"

Kensi presses her lips together. This is probably a more private conversation than Callen wants to have in front of her, Eric, Nell and Hetty. 

Callen says, "Stop." He gives Sam a look. They have an entire conversation in that look. Kensi thinks of Deeks's blue eyes. 

"Now that we're done with that," Hetty says. "You said they came to your apartment."

"They came to our apartment and they were immediately focused on me. They dragged us both out to the beach. They had pictures of me with our Santa Barbara contact. I made up a story that he was Homeland Security. They said Deeks had to shoot me to prove he wasn't in on it. He shot, as we've discussed, I thrashed around and played dead."

"Which of you pressed the panic button?" Hetty asks.

"Deeks," Callen says, smiling. "I was convinced we could both get out okay."

"Now we plan," Hetty says. 

"We put in motion your already laid plan," Callen says. 

"Yes," Hetty says. "First of all, Mr. Callen, your cover is officially dead. Rose helped us out yet again, and the dead body was seen by a number of police officers. The investigation was taken over by the FBI's BAU, again thanks to a favor. The official story will be that Agent Callen's alias's death was an act of a serial killer. The unofficial story will be that the FBI is conducting the investigation at the behest of another federal agency."

"Next," Hetty says. "Eight weeks ago Agent Callen and Detective Deeks went to Chechnya as part of an undercover operation. Six weeks ago we received information that both had been killed in a bomb attack. Two weeks ago, we received further information nearly completely confirming that they had died."

"Deeks and I went on vacation less than eight weeks ago, and he just added me to his lease," Kensi says. 

"At my request, you and Mr. Deeks went under unregistered aliases. Also at my request, Mr. Deeks technically added you to his lease when he moved in," Hetty says. 

"Good to know," Kensi says. "If I thought Deeks was dead, wouldn't I be more - more sad?"

"I guess you've been covering," Nell says. "Or you're in denial."

"And you'll need to get out of that denial when our two new agents arrive," Hetty says. 

"New agents?" Sam says, glaring at Hetty. 

"Yes, Mr. Hanna, we can only go on with the team half-staffed for so long. Don't worry, our new agents were handpicked by me and are completely trustworthy."

"But we shouldn't tell them G and Deeks aren't dead," Sam says.

"Yes," Hetty says. "I'm sure we will eventually. But for now, as long as Detective Deeks is undercover, we will act as though both of them are dead. As I said, both agents are completely trustworthy, but some of their past coworkers are … more suspicious. In case those coworkers call on their old friends, I want these two to talk about how sad you are, how awful it is that Agent Callen and Detective Deeks are dead." 

"That should work great," Kensi says. "I love lying to my partner."

"Neither of the new agents will be your partner. You and Sam will be partners. I think that would be easier," Hetty says. 

"And I'm dead," Callen says.

"We have an identity created for you. You'll be working in Tokyo as analyst for the DOD." 

"And I'll help you," Nell says quickly. "Don't worry."

The next morning the new agents arrive. The woman is Della Park, family were 1st generation from Singapore and Peru. Her accent is 100% Georgia and she's gorgeous. Kensi is surprised she hasn't modeled in the past, she even checks the file Hetty gave them twice. The man is Carter Fallow, he looks like a tanned stereotypical Norwegian, way more than Deeks. You'd have to read his file, like Kensi did, to know his maternal grandparents are both straight from Brooklyn African-American. Hetty clearly made sure there was no chance her new agents would be secretly part of the asshole clique they've been tracking.

She takes Deeks's desk and Sam takes Callen's. She puts a picture of Deeks dancing with Monty on her desk, next to the horses. She makes herself teary-eyed twice a day at different times when she's around their new team-mates. 

Kensi takes a little pleasure in Della getting the sexy thong life assignments. But she sees Della's tiny grimace as she puts on her third low cut nearly sheer shirt and says, "Promise I'll take the next one."

Della says, "No, it's fine, I know it must be weird for you. I mean, you know --" She makes a face Kensi thinks is supposed to convey "your partner and lover died and stuff."

Kensi says, "I'm good. I can do it. I mean, I'll miss his voice in my ear and the comments about how great my ass looks," and she tears up for real. "But I can do it."

At the end of the new agents' first two weeks, she goes for coffee with Nell. Kensi says, "You know, this just occurred to me, but what about the staff at the Mission? I mean, they had to have seen Callen and not known about this Chechnya thing, right?" Nell just looks at her, a little judgey. Kensi says, "Which is why all the staff at the mission except us four has gradually been replaced over the last month."

"Exactly," Nell says. "Which is how Eric met Starla." Nell adds a little twist to the name, like she's saying "Vomit."

"He's really dating her? I wasn't sure, I thought you two… Ugh, how much have I missed? I'm sorry," she says, reaching out to squeeze Nell's hand. 

"No, no, everyone was being super discreet and you were supposed to be oblivious. I mean, Eric and I were never anything. Not like that. And. A few months ago, he sat me down and kinda yelled at me. A little. A lot for him. But I deserved it. I mean, I didn't want to date him, but I liked that he liked me. And that's mean. Because I knew eventually it would hurt him. And it did. So I feel bad."

Kensi says, "We're human, we make mistakes. We do better."

"Yeah," Nell says. "And I only say Starla's name like that to you. I fully support Eric having fun."

"Was she really born Starla?"

Nell nods. "And I thought my name was horrible. She's a very good analyst. Really."

The next weekend, Eric tells her to stay after they wrap up their most recent case of Navy men gone wrong. They're the only ones up in Ops and Eric waves his hand. They're both looking at satellite pictures of somewhere. There's one red dot. "Overwatch," Kensi says. 

"Yup, that pretty red dot is this guy you might know." Eric winks. 

"He's okay," Kensi says. She feels loose suddenly where she didn't even know she was tight. "How much longer will that last?"

"We think five months," Eric says. "It's a survivalist compound, in Idaho. I'm not sure I was supposed to tell you, but I thought you might appreciate knowing."

She hugs him. "Thank you." 

Her apartment, the fancy apartment Deeks had gotten her, is built on levels and levels. It's three steps down to the bathroom with the wonderful bath, ten steps down for the kitchen, three steps up to the second bedroom and in the master bedroom, there was a tiny square room on top. Tall enough to stand up, enough room for a twin bed, one long window down the side looking out on the garden rooftop. Ever since she's been pretending Deeks is dead, she's been sleeping up there. She hasn't installed a tv, or brought in a lamp, she usually even skips bringing her tablet up with her. She always has her phone, of course, she's still an agent. 

Monty found it first, she looked all over the apartment discovering two closets she had no idea were there, and finally went up the stairs formed by the built in bookcase to the room. Monty had dragged two of Deeks's sweatshirts up there and was sleeping on them. She lets him stay there, even after she drags up a mattress and a cover and blankets and pillow. The two of them hanging out, waiting for him to come home. 

She and Nell take Della out to dinner, a welcome thing they don't do until it's been a month. Della doesn't complain. Kensi eats her salad and then dives into her huge burrito. Della eats more delicately.

Della says, "So, Nell, you seeing anyone?"

"No," Nell says. "Not really."

"Not really?" Kensi grins. "Define not really."

"There's this guy," Nell says. She glances at Kensi. "We only talk. He's working in Japan and I've been helping him with some tech stuff."

Kensi laughs. "Do you mean, uh, Gustave?" She literally can't think of what they're supposed to be calling Callen but she figures Nell will understand. 

"Yes," Nell says, laughing, too. "Gustave is a codename," she says to Della. "I've met him in person, too."

"Very attractive," Kensi says. 

Della says, "So is her your online boyfriend? When do you get to actually make out? Cause making out is a lot of the fun."

"Yes," Kensi says and even sighs. "For real."

"Sorry," Della says.

"Don't fall for your partner," Kensi says. She doesn't mean it. 

"I'm not that stupid," Della says. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that but Carter's very gay."

"One more thing I missed," Kensi says. "I'm the worst."

"He keeps it mostly under wraps," Della says. 

"I knew," Nell says. "Sorry, Kensi, you have been a little oblivious."

"With every reason," Della says, quickly. 

"Yeah," Kensi says. 

She wakes up on Saturday in her top room, Monty barking from the kitchen already that he wants food, he wants walkies. She looks at the ceiling and longs, actually longs. She would laugh at herself but she has a dog to take care of.

Sunday she calls Hetty.

"Deeks is up there without back up," Kensi says. "He probably has a ton of info. So how do we get it and take care of him? What if we send him a girlfriend?"

Nell smiles. "Or two. Me and Kensi could go up to that town, the one compound is outside of -"

"How do you know that, Ms. Jones?" Hetty purses her lips. 

Nell shrugs. "The point is, we're kinda leaving a man behind here."

"We are working on ways to contact him," Hetty says. "But continue telling me your plan."

Kensi says, "Nell and I go up to the town, look around, and then move there. We go as perfect wives for these men. Eventually they come find us."

Sam says, "We can't leave a man behind and not after all Deeks has done."

Hetty sighs.

Two days later, Eric is moved into the condo, taking care of Monty. Nell and Kensi are already on the road to Spokane. Bitsy, Kensi thinks. Nell is Bitsy, her cousin, and Kensi is now Mary. Mary is a widow, her husband she married at 19 is dead in Afghanistan. Since then Mary has worked simple jobs and lived with her aunt and cousin. Bitsy is only 21, and after her mother, Mary's aunt, dies, they decide to move somewhere smaller, a town with fewer people and better values. This is how they talk. They drill each other in the car. They make up stories about their childhood and common experiences. Nell starts reading out loud from blogs and tumblrs maintained by ex-evangelicals. She even branches out to current evangelicals. "We have to know this stuff," Nell says. "I guess I'm a virgin again."

"I'm not," Kensi says. "But lust is wrong. It's about having kids not enjoying sex."

"Yay procreation," Nell says, in a flat voice. "I don't know if I even want kids, you know?"

"Yeah," Kensi says. "I keep saying someday. Someday, but when is that? I feel like it's only going to happen if Deeks or I screw up and it's an accident. That's no way to plan your life. Maybe we have an accident, maybe we don't."

"I don't even have a Deeks," Nell says.

"What about Gustave?" Kensi grins.

"Ha," she says. "Flirting online and sometimes having actual conversations is not a step towards babies."

"But you like him," Kensi says. Weird as it is to think of Callen dating. She supposes he must. He seemed like he maybe even loved that Kristin Donnelly woman with the child. And he had a lot of chemistry with Tracy, his ex CIA wife. Nell is nothing like either one of those women, she thinks. 

"I do," Nell says. "But he's in Japan, I'm going deep cover, who knows when this op is over? What happens when we're in the same state or same building and he doesn't have to talk to me to be around someone who knows who he is?" 

"I bet," Kensi says, "he will still want to talk to you. And flirt." 

They have a safe house in Spokane where they take pictures for background. Nell photoshops some of their younger pictures. They build their legend.

"We're driving down to 'check out' the town," Kensi says. 

"And the bad guys will automatically be suspicious of us. Because they have to know the location of their compound is easy to find," Nell says.

"On the bright side," Kensi says, "they don't think much of women."

"On the dark side," Nell says, "they have enough people in federal agencies to know that there are women agents out there."

"But we will not come off as agents," Kensi says. "We are working very hard at that."

"Got it," Nell says. She still sounds a little nervous.

As they drive into town, they see two men jogging with heavy backpacks. Kensi's heart rises and sinks since she knows at a glance neither is Deeks. Nell still looks and turns towards Kensi and then down at her feet. 

They slowly tour the town and then stop at one of two coffee shops in town. Kensi gets out and stretches a little. 

The pleasant fifty-something white woman behind the counter says, "Coffee?" 

"Oh my gosh, yes," Kensi says. "Something with caffeine and sugar would be ideal."

"Me, too," Nell says. The two of them settle down at the counter. 

Counter woman is predictably chatty. She says, "You two passing through?"

"Thinking about staying," Nell says. 

"Thinking about," Kensi says, cautiously. "We live in Spokane and we have to get out of the city. It's just too scary anymore. So much crime." She emphasizes the word crime. 

The counter lady smiles. "You don't get that type here," she says. She has very tiny frown lines forming by her mouth. Kensi would bet counter lady gets the dog whistle and is possibly tired of hearing it? Something. Kensi files it away and keeps her face blank and naive. 

"I can work anywhere," Nell says. "And I want to meet a good man."

"She's does medical transcription stuff on the internet," Kensi says. "I just have my pension so I'd need to look for work, Bitsy."

"Not much work, Mary," Nell says. 

Counter lady says, "What kind of pension could a girl as young as you have?" 

Kensi looks downcast. "My husband died in Afghanistan." She sighs. "We didn't even have time to have babies."

"I'm sorry," Counter lady says. "Sorry to pry."

"It's okay," Kensi says. They start talking about the town, asking about churches and boys. They leave the idea of moving wide open and head back to Spokane.

They spend another week drilling each other on their new legends and trying to be the raised evangelical women they need to appear to be. Nell gets more and more comfortable and Kensi starts to feel more confident. She also notices Nell messaging at least an hour a day with Callen. 

xx

Marty has finally earned enough trust to be allowed to leave the compound. It's not very far, just to the local town, but he enjoys every trip. He hopes that someday he'll see someone he recognizes or someone will say something to him he hears as a codeword and he can finally finally check in. He can think he has a chance to get out alive. 

Because otherwise, this mission is going to kill him for sure. Everybody trusts Jake, they think he's great. They let him on plans. He knows everybody's name and where they work or if they're permanent compound residents. Jake is a permanent compound resident. He knows that one of three families who live in the compound has a dad just like his. Everyone is, of course, okay with it. It's okay to hit your kids, hit your inferior wife. It's a fun happy family distortion of religion and philosophy. When Marty goes down, he's going to shoot that guy with his last breath. 

The plan is kind of clever. They've spent the last ten years assassinating any people of color who seem to be leadership quality in various police departments and national agencies. They make it look random, mostly. They make sure someone knows it's them in the shadows, sometimes. Cut down the tallest poppy like they say on the Hobbiton set. (Marty loves the extra features. He likes to watch the Lord of Rings the extended versions all in a row and then the commentaries and bonus featurettes. Kensi used to look at him when he'd mention doing that and say "Do you want to have sex? Cause sometimes I think you really don't.") 

The big plan involves killing a lot of people. That's where Jake will be going and where he's likely to die. Marty keeps hoping to get out of it. He'd really love to see Monty again or go surfing or have sex with Kensi. 

He'd really like to grow his beard back and have super long hair. Jared Leto hair, if he gets out alive, he is growing Jared Leto hair. 

He goes into town with Gus the just fucking annoying. He's tried to come up with a more alliterative nickname but it's too much work. He uses too much of his brain keeping his cover completely intact at all times. Gus is destined for a big city PD or maybe he'll die with Marty at the big finale. But he keeps a smile on his face, nice ol' Jakey, the cousin killer with a joke for every occasion. 

So the two of them are standing in the local big grocery store (the only grocery store for 50 miles) when he just about stops breathing. 

"That girl is, she's gorgeous," he manages to say. Kensi. It's Kensi. She's skinnier and she has bangs again and she's looking down at the baked goods. It's at least 30 seconds before he realizes she's talking to Nell. 

Gus says, "I like the shorty. You can have the tall one."

"Deal," Marty says. "We should introduce ourselves, see if they're good people."

Gus laughs but he starts walking. "You are hard up, man." 

Gus says hello and Kensi looks up and sees him. She's good. So very good. It's a split second when her eyes are wide and she's elated and then she's back to polite, reserved. She says, "Hello."

"Hello," Marty says. "Hey. Are you two, are you new in town?"

"Yup," Nell says. She grins up at Gus. "We just moved down here a month ago from Spokane. And it's so nice. So different from the people you meet in the city." She holds out her hand. "My name is Bitsy and this is my cousin Mary."

They shake hands all around. Kensi looks up at him as she shakes his hand and it feels like he could float through the ceiling. He doesn't have to pretend to let Gus take the lead. Gus gets their names and even Bitsy's phone number. He says, "We have to go back to our shopping." He practically drags Marty away because he can't stop staring at Kensi. She is doing a much better job being undercover since she doesn't even look back. 

It takes two weeks for he and Gus to get the go-ahead to ask the girls out. So the two of them must have a very firm legend. The compound people are very suspicious of anyone new to the town. They've caught three FBI agents, Marty's heard. 

Gus calls Bitsy and arranges a nice coffee date. The kind of thing you do to properly date when you firmly believe women are to be beaten, not heard. Not that Gus is that bad, Marty amends. He taps his fingers over and over again on his thigh as they drive to town. Mary, Mary, Mary, pretty Mary who he already knows was married at 19, widowed by Afghanistan at 23 and now works at the coffee shop.

He hopes Kensi and Nell have some super cool idea about him passing on the information he has because all he can think about is Mary, Mary, not Kensi. Maybe he'll find out who the hell is taking care of Monty. 

The four of them sit at the same table but Gus is already obsessed with Bitsy so it's easy for Marty and Mary not Kensi easily talk only to each other. He asks questions he already knows the answers to about her fake background. He notices she's lost weight, but not much muscle tone. She's doing a fantastic job, her posture, word choice - none of it is Kensi. He is probably fucking up all over the place. His excuse is being flustered. 

He says, "Do you have plans? I mean, like, for the week. The rest of your life." He mouths the last part but he sees her reading his lips. 

"My plans, well, I dunno. I would, I would really like to have this chance to talk to you again." 

"Absolutely," Gus says, leaning in. "Are you free Friday afternoon?"

Mary smiles. 

So Marty spends 3 days doing the White is Right version of a kill house, playing the trainer and the trainee. 3 years of waiting, or 3 days whichever, and he gets to sit at his own table with Mary. She says, "It was awful, we had a break in at our apartment. They didn't take anything, thank goodness."

"I'm just glad you weren't home. They didn't take anything?"

Kensi makes a gesture he recognizes as a bug. That makes sense. Though he has a hard time imagining who'll be monitoring that feed. He guesses it means that his supremacist superiors think it's okay for him and Mary to get serious. 

They date, he learns to not get hard just by holding her hand and rubbing the space between her thumb and fingers. Sometimes, when they are nearly alone, they try to figure out how to transfer all the information Marty has. One afternoon, Mary presses a book in his hands. "I think you'll love this," she says. "But you have to return it to me."

It's the first book of the Left Behind series. He says, "I've read about this book …" on a website that used it as an example of awful writing, among other things.

Mary gives him a look of pure Kensi "smarten up, dork." She says, "Maybe you could take notes. In the margin or something." She says it very quietly. He nods vigorously. 

The book is not something Marty enjoys reading in the slightest. But he writes notes in the margin, in code. On their next date, he gives her the book back and tells her how the code works. "Don't let anyone else see it," he says. He tries to wink. "Sometimes it gets a little personal. To us."

Gus laughs, sitting down next to them, holding Nell's hand. "I love that book," he says. "Was that for real the first time you read it?"

"Yeah," Marty says. "Mary lent me her copy. I hope she brought the second book because I can not wait to see what happens next." Thankfully, only Nell and Kensi get the sarcasm. 

After three books, he's passed on everything he knows. Murders, vandalism, sleeper swastika fans he knows about. Kensi tells him that Nell has passed on everything through her own sneaky channels. 

He says, "They're building up to a big one, I can feel it."

"Then you should marry me," she says.

"Say that again?"

"If Jake marries Mary, I can be in the compound with you. They won't send me to the big thing, I'll be able to get Nell a warning. Also, I don't know if you've thought about this, but we could have sex." She smirks a little. She says, "So, propose."

"No," he says. It sounds stupid but he is just done being able to filter himself during that 20 minutes every three days he can be Marty Deeks. "When I propose to you, Kensi, it's gonna be for real, not me mouthing some fake bullshit."

She burst into tears. "Yes, yes, yes," she says, hugging him. "I would love to marry you."

He hugs her back, and whispers, "Tears, really?"

"You ass," she mutters. "You said when you propose to me. I'm genuinely moved."

"Also soon we can fuck," he says. "I like your plan."

Jake's higher ups think marriage would be good for him. Marty suspects it gives them one more thing to hold onto him. But also, they love when super white people marry and have more super white babies. 

BItsy and Gus are their witnesses, with Jake using his new faked identity since he shot his cousin. They kiss passionately. When they're in his new one bedroom space in the compound ("married quarters"), Kensi mouths "bugged?"

He shrugs. He whispers, "We should assume so."

He puts on the closest he has to sexy music which is classical, of course, and kisses her. They still fit perfectly. 

She pushes him back into the bedroom. She actually rips his shirt getting it off. He is more delicate since she has on an awfully pretty dress. They don't pause when they're naked to appreciate anything, she just pushes him down on his back and lowers herself onto him. They are both pretty loud when they come. She says, "Second round, soon?"

"Yeah, yeah, just give me some time. I would almost say there's something to be said for waiting until marriage but."

"No," Kensi says. "Fuck that. I wish we'd been doing that every night for the last two months. Except with more foreplay."

"You were in charge of foreplay, baby," he says. 

She keeps him up all night. 

They've been married three weeks when Marty gets the call. All the higher ups are present and they lay out the basic target. It's a meeting of an association of black law enforcement types in Sacramento with Leon Vance giving the keynote address. It's happening in two days and everyone in the room is leaving in the morning, in six hours. 

He draws everything he can remember into Mary's last Left Behind book along with all the details. He says, "It makes sense if I'm out, you'd want to see Bitsy. You have to get this to her. I can only do so much."

"I know," Kensi says.

She kisses him. "You better come home alive," she says.

"That's not their plan, you know," Marty says. "Look, whatever happens, I love you. I love you in an incredibly mushy way. Also, you get Monty. You can use all my death benefits on him, I know he's expensive."

Her eyes are watering and she brushes at his cheeks. He guesses his eyes are leaking, too. She says, "Shut up."

"Not even a 'I love you, too, from the moment we met?'" They keep kissing and breaking apart. 

"I did not love you from the moment I met you," she says. "You were like a wave. Crashing into me."

"That's a great Dave Matthews song," he says.

"Oh, god, I love you, please shut up so your last words to me aren't about a fucking Dave Matthews song."

They have sex on the bed and he says "I love you" over and over. 

He snaps back to Jake, willing martyr as soon as he's in the car. He's driving down with two guys he's never met before who aren't much into talking. He tries his best super racist jokes and doesn't even get a smile. They sleep in the car and eat McDonalds on the way down. Jake is the only one who smokes, but they're just humorless, not humorless assholes, so they let him have a smoke break. Jake doesn't try to phone anyone, not even his wife. As he tells the guys, "She'll be proud of me."

Jake is one of four guys with rifles Kensi would drool over stationed on the rooftop across the street. Along with his ammo, he finds a personal note from their esteemed leader explaining how they need to make sure they have martyrs to the cause. He should kill everyone else on the roof after the mission is accomplished and then rendezvous with everyone else in Fresno. Marty is well aware all of the guys on the roof got the same note. 

Their job is to shoot everyone who comes pouring out of the center after other people set off some lethal explosions. Marty prays Kensi got the word out in time. 

An explosion goes off inside the convention center, and then another. Marty shoots the sniper closest to him in the head. He gets one off at sniper number 2 before he himself is shot twice. 

He clings to the lip of the roof until he hears "FEDERAL AGENTS, PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS" and gets shot in the shoulder at the same time. 

He is in really really bad pain burning everywhere in his body, listening to two agents walking back and forth saying "CLEAR" three times. Everything is black and bleeding. He tries to say "LAPD" and his badge number but he knows he's just babbling. A woman says, "I think this one is dead," as she places two fingers at his throat. The man says, "Got it. We need three body bags and an ambulance."

Marty thinks, fuck, he was really hoping to get out alive this time …

He comes to in a haze, a fog, the semi familiar feeling of a lot of painkillers still not holding back the intense pain he feels everywhere. He opens his eyes and sees he's handcuffed to the bed. Unless he's somehow looking at someone else's hand. That looks likes his. Hand twins, he thinks, and smiles at really old Friends episode.

There's a man sitting in the chair next to him. He looks 60, but like how Sam would be at 60, if Sam were white, had hair, and was just built, not built like a brick house of muscle. Sam, Marty thinks. 

The man says, "Name and rank, kid."

"Martin Marty A is for Arlo Deeks, is my current name. Different one when I was born. LAPD, badge number --"

"That's enough," Old White Sam says. "That's what I thought. I'm Gibbs, NCIS."

"You know Callen," Marty says, closing his eyes. "Did someone from NCIS shoot me?"

"In the shoulder," Gibbs says, dismissively. "Most of the damage was from the guy you killed. And the one you didn't shoot at."

"I tried," Marty says. 

"You did good," Gibbs says. "Thanks to you we only had five fatalities. And 40 of the guys you were undercover with."

"They think I'm dead," Marty says.

"Yeah," Gibbs says. "And we framed the guy you shot in the head as the mole. Invented a whole background for him at the FBI."

Marty nods. Gibbs says, "Why aren't you NCIS? I've seen your record."

"NCIS agents have to float. In boats. Ships. Agent afloat. Not interested."

"Okay," Gibbs says. 

"Also," Marty says, "I have a union. NCIS isn't union. Unions gave us the weekend, man. Good," Marty says. He's fading. He forces himself to say, "Kensi?"

"She's okay," Gibbs says so Marty doesn't even try to stay awake. 

The next time he wakes up he sees Sam. Marty says, "Oh, hey."

Sam smiles. "Let me start by saying, I'm an idiot. I know it's been months but I wanted to apologize for what I said. I was just plain wrong. Okay?"

"Cool," Marty says. "You always, you're real good to Kensi and that's cool. Cool."

"You are very high, but I know what you mean. Kensi doesn't need anyone to take care of her --"

"Fuck yeah," Marty says. 

"She only needs people to have her back and that's you."

"And you," Marty says. Since Sam apologized and stuff. 

"Has anyone explained your injuries to you?"

"Gibbsy said NCIS shot me." Marty tries to chuckle but it hurts so very much. He has to stop being funny.

"Yeah, but it was a through and through. You've been seriously gut shot, you'll be out for a few months. Don't worry, LAPD and NCIS are taking care of you. You'll recover just fine."

"Ow, months," Marty says. "Ugly scars?"

"Eh, not too bad," Sam says. "Kensi won't mind."

"She's okay," Marty says. 

"I was in the group that came into the compound and arrested her. She put on quite the show as the very upset racist wife. I told her you were okay, and then when we were in front of people, told her husband was dead. She can scream," Sam says.

"You didn't get everyone," Marty says. "You need Kensi's cover to be viable."

"We got nearly everybody. Two of the higher ups got away. They're fugitives, though, on FBI's most wanted and NCIS's. We got everyone who works for the federal agencies, though, so you and Kensi are good. And Callen can come home."

"When do I go home?"

"You're back to LA in two weeks. Then your rehab starts."

"Wooo," Marty says. He sings "I miss you, I'm going back home to the west coast …"

"You're already on the West coast," Sam says. He pats Marty's arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song West Coast by Coconut Records is quoted at the end.


	6. Chapter 6

Kensi spends a week in a detention facility in Boise. She makes sure she is teary eyed and upset every time she sees anyone from the compound. 

She goes through multiple debriefs and identifying pictures. The nice FBI women tell her that Deeks will start his debriefs in a week, when he's more conscious on a regular basis. "He'll be fine," the older lady says. 

"I'm not going into WitSec, right?"

"Nope," the younger lady agent says. "We've been able to dismantle almost all of their information network. You and your partner should be able to go back to work for NCIS. Just don't give press conferences."

"I don't like press conferences," Kensi says, thinking of Callen. 

She flies into LA in a private jet. Eric meets her at the airport with Monty who breaks free of his leash and jumps onto her. She says, "Thank you, Eric."

"I'm going to miss that bathtub," Eric says. "I set up some of my gaming stuff in there, it was like heaven."

He drives her back to her apartment and she sleeps on the master bed with Monty draped over her. 

She goes through her debriefs and psych evals, all mandatory after long term undercover. She only asks five times when she can see Deeks. "We want to be more sure of the security," she is told. "We're keeping you apart so everyone thinks he's dead," is another she gets. 

The day before she's slated to go back to work, she's out walking Monty when she sees a Jaguar pull up next to her. Hetty calls from the driver's side, "Get in Miss Blye, and you can bring the mutt, too."

"Mutt is the technical term," Hetty says to Monty. "I meant no disrespect." Hetty drives her to a non-descript private rehabilitation center in Orange County. 

"Deeks," Kensi says.

"Exactly," Hetty says, the car idling. "He's in room 409. I'll arrange for someone to pick you two up in an hour or so."

"Or longer," Kensi says.

"He's still not up for much exercise, Miss Blye," Hetty says. 

"I just wanted to talk to him longer," she says. 

Kensi almost runs into the room. Monty basically does.

"Yay," Deeks says. "Finally."

"I know," she says. They kiss for a few minutes even though Deeks's breath is pretty gross. She says, "You know your hair is getting long."

"Super long, that's my plan. Jared Leto long, you seen him recently? That long."

"No," Kensi says. "I know you need to let loose, but as your girlfriend, I have a veto. And I veto. A lot."

"ZZ Top beard?" He grins at her.

"Veto again." 

She sits down next to his bed and rests her head on his uninjured shoulder. Monty is already on the bed, curled up in a protective manner at Deeks's feet. She says, "I'm gonna come here every day."

"It's a drive," he says. "Don't do it if you have a long day at work. I know how long those days are. You can text me, or email me. Nell brought me a tablet. I don't think it's actually been released yet, or Eric built it, but it's pretty sweet."

She sleeps very well that night. 

Kensi finds the Mission weird in a way. Familiar, but different. She says hi to the people she knows and drifts down to the gym. She sees Callen and Nell talking, standing very very close. Nell laughs and Callen laughs, then he touches her chin and then they're kissing. 

Kensi steps back so they won't see her and almost trips over Hetty. "I hope you don't feel resentful," Hetty says. 

"Of what?"

"I seem to recall a memo from Assistant Director Granger about you and Detective Deeks refraining from any displays of affection in the Mission."

"I never saw that," Kensi says. 

"Oh? My mistake," Hetty says, smirking. She walks away. 

Kensi texts Deeks what she saw (he texts back "take a picture take a picture," she ignores that) and what Hetty said. 

Then she walks into the gym and it's only Callen. She can tell, though, he knows she knows. He says, "Good to have you back, Kensi."

"Same to you," she says. 

"We have a lot of agents these days," Callen says. "But they're all too good to get rid of any of them."

"Thanks," Kensi says. "You know, maybe we could have two teams."

"We used to have two teams running out of the mission, I think it would be good to go back to that." He smiles at her again. He's really chipper. It's scary. 

"So, like --"

"You and Deeks can have the new newbie and Sam and I will have the old newbies."

"So who would be team leader if it's me, Deeks and," she says. She pauses. "You mean me. My own team."

"You'll be great," Callen says. He sounds very sincere. "Unfortunately, it doesn't come with a raise. Also, since Nell just got her upgrade to full time field agent after her work undercover, it would be weird for me to be her team leader."

"But I can boss around Deeks," Kensi says.

"He likes that, though," Callen says. 

"That's very true," she says. 

It's a surprising slow day setting up her new team space and meeting her new agent. But she's still bouncing when she gets to Orange County. She tells him everything and he says, beaming, "You're gonna rock this. You'll be great."

"I think I will," she says. 

"I know you will," he says. "Tell me about my new teammates. Although, I'm finally getting along with Sam and now we don't work together? That's ironic and wrong."

"We'll still work together," Kensi says. "Okay, so you know Nell. And you know you. So Nell's new partner is Matt Bernhart, formerly LAPD."

"I've heard of him," Deeks says, a little frown on his face. "He was forced to resign."

"But it wasn't a bad forced to resign like he was dirty or anything --"

"There are good forced to resign events," Deeks says, slowly.

"It wasn't bad enough to keep him out of NCIS. Plus, Renko recommended him. Matt says everyone thought he would never make it out of training or his first assignment or his next, but he did. He worked in New York, he was an agent afloat for over a year," Kensi says. Deeks shudders. He tends to go on about what a nightmare being the agent afloat must be. 

"Then he was on the green team and now he's back in LA. It works out well because Nell has the experience of undercover and the kinds of ops we do, and Matt has all the field agent experience. Although I think Callen is a little nervous," she says, laughing. 

"I don't like him," Deeks says. 

"Because Callen is nervous?"

"If Callen is nervous, he must be attractive. And I'm two months at best away from being back in the field. I know your weakness for LAPD." 

"I'm so glad I know you're not being serious," Kensi says. Deeks is still frowning. "He does look a little like you, blue eyes, blond, scruffy. You know what he doesn't have?"

"My charm? My skills? My sparkling clean adult record?"

"Jared Leto hair," she says. "If I was choosing between Jared Leto hair on a guy and not as long hair, I'd go with the one closer to a high and tight. You know, Marine daddy."

"Fine," Deeks mutters. "What if I just have it for, like, a day. And then I cut it? I mean it's pretty long now."

She sighs. "Okay, you can grow it. But it gets cut the minute you're out of here."

"Deal," he says. 

xx

The rehab is a lot of getting strong, building up resilience again. It's very boring, broken up only by the endless debriefs from Homeland Security and FBI and NCIS (not even Kensi NCIS which would be fun, but some agent from DC named McGee). Also, there's the healing and antibiotics and more gross recovery things but he tries not to dwell. 

Finally, he is a day away from being released and Kensi is in his room, freaking out. Today they're both getting medals from NCIS for being awesome. After he gets out of the shower, Kensi pushes him down on the bed and climbs on his lap. He says, "Best idea ever, pre medal sex?"

"Ha," Kensi says. "Not that I don't want to have sex but I am trying to make your hair look somewhat decent." She's pulling it back in a ponytail. 

"Aw, come on. A douche ponytail? Come on."

"Trust me, your hair down is way douchier. I know you have to let loose and I promise, I won't cut it in the middle of the night no matter how tempted I am until you get back to work --"

"I'm donating it," he says. "Locks of love, remember?"

She sighs and stands up. "Okay."

"Do you think this really looks medal acceptance okay?" Marty looks in the mirror, it's not great. He's been trimming his increasingly full beard, but his hair pulled back is not ideal for his looks.

"You're putting your cover on," she says.

"Cover?"

She waves her hand and points at the garment bag she hung up when she came in. "Your dress uniform. I ordered you a new one. I mean, you're so much skinnier. I could have had the other one taken in but it seemed silly because you won't be that gaunt forever or anything."

She's babbling, like she's him or something. It's a bigger thing for her than for him, he gets that. He says, "Got it. You shower."

He gets dressed in his new skinnier dress blues and sits back down on the bed. He calls Sam while he can hear the shower running. "Hey, you coming?"

"Coming to see Kensi get her medal, sure," Sam says. There's a warmth in his voice so Marty knows they're cool. 

"And bringing the thing?" 

Sam laughs. "I got it. I'll pass it to you covertly, like you're a real spy or something."

The shower stops and the hair dryer noise starts. Marty takes his morning pills and vitamins, plays a game of word search or three on his phone. Finally she comes out, curling her hair into some kind of bun thing. 

"You look gorgeous," he says. 

She smiles as she finishes her elaborate hair. "I hope so, this was a $300 dress."

"You make the dress work," he says. 

She takes his hand to subtly help him up. Her heels are high enough they're almost eye to eye. He says, "Why aren't you wearing lipstick?"

"So I can do this," she says, and kisses him. Then she puts on her lipstick, which he guesses is also expensive. 

They have a reserved room at the center and by the time Kensi and Marty get down there, Director Vance, Lt. Bates, Hetty, Gibbs and some people Marty doesn't recognize are already milling around. Sam and a few other people sneak in as Vance starts his speech. "Even though you are not an NCIS agent, Det. Deeks, and I think that is something I hope will change --"

Gibbs, probably only the person who can get away with interrupting the Director, says, "He says he needs a union." 

Bates and Hetty laugh. Vance smiles, says more nice things and pins the medal on his chest. Then he gets to the part Marty cares about and does the same for Kensi. She glows and he thinks she might be tearing up. Everyone claps and they're done. 

Sam claps Marty on the back and slips the thing into his pocket. 

Marty says to Kensi, "You can put that in its box and store it with the one your dad got and it's like he knows. I mean, I know he knows and he's so proud of you." 

She hugs him so hard, it almost hurts. "You asshole," she says, mumbling into his chest. "Thank you."

He takes her hand and pushes the ring onto it. "I have this for you, by the way."

"You're proposing?" She smiles down at the ring. "This is gorgeous, did you pick it out?"

"Technically, I left it up to Sam who knows us both and I think he left it up to Michelle."

She smiles wider. "Good plan," she says. "But I want a real proposal."

"Should it be mushy?"

She's looking down at the ring. "Do you only do mushy when you're about to die?"

"No," he says. "Okay, I love you, I love you. Everything is basically awesome with you even when we're fighting, even though Monty likes you more than me, even when you're not wearing $300 dresses and it's just those crappy sweats you bought at Walmart for god knows why reason. And you're crying a little, so that's mushy enough?"

She says, "You got a little leak, too, there, ass. Ugh, so yes, I feel like we're embarrassing ourselves a lot."

"Yes to marrying me?"

"Of course," she says. "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Matt's inclusion is a tip of the hat to the wonderful Tess DiCorsi's stories. I started this story as part of the extreme big bang challenge on lj - 100,000 words. Clearly, not something I could manage as this not even 30,000 is still the longest I've ever written. But I had high hopes and planned out lots of plotty things. This deep undercover plot was meant to be the first third and the resolution of the ex-stasi ring as the second and who called Nate as the end. I fully intend to get those last two thirds written at some point but right now, this summer, I have other stories I'm excited about and want to write. Also, a little burnt on this 'verse, it was a lot of words for me! So for now, this story is marked complete. Once I get the next 30,000 done, I'll start updating again. (So almost all loose ends will be tied up. Like those missing bad guys.) Thank you so much for reading along and all the nice comments! :)


End file.
